The Man Who Would Not Break
by Gone2Far
Summary: To quote Hemingway: 'The world breaks everyone'. Steve is no exception. Chapter 18 now up. A Life-Flight to the ER.
1. Broken Places

The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 1

**Here's one without any felines in it. Distressing themes abound. I don't usually preface my stories with a quote but I have always liked the one you'll find below the disclaimer. It provided inspiration and framework for this outing. As usual, all mistakes are mine. Don't let them give you nightmares.**

**Disclaimer: Am going to break something I don't own that provides me no income but promise to fix it before giving it back.**

_The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry._

_Ernest Hemingway__, __A Farewell to Arms, 1929_

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

The Broken Places

She'd been gone for two weeks. He knew it was two weeks because there had to be at least that many days' worth of empties amid the rest of the debris; lots and lots of debris.

Lots and lots of empties.

He'd been doing his absolute best to achieve his goal – oblivion – and in fact had been doing such a good job of it that, finally, Sam Chu told him he wouldn't sell to him anymore.

Groaning, he rolled over onto his back and tried to assess the time. The light in the room was sort of yellowish and the air hot and sticky. He ran a hand over a heavily bristled face and lay there for a few moments. This wouldn't do. He was awake and cognizant. This wouldn't do at all.

…..

Danny Williams pulled the Camaro into the driveway behind the battered Silverado. He hadn't pushed Steve to get it repaired because God knows the guy would probably only finish the job he'd started if he got behind the wheel anytime soon.

Since the day of the funeral he didn't think he'd seen Steve sober. The man had been stoic and nearly wordless through it all; silently accepting the condolences and attempts to comfort him; speaking only when necessary during preparations for the traditional post funeral gathering expected in so many cultures; the Island's certainly one of them.

He'd organized it as perfectly as a well-planned and executed op. There was food, augmented of course by whatever casseroles, cakes and other things friends and neighbors had brought. There was soda, alcohol, (lots and lots of alcohol), and of course the place where bereaved friends and family could gather to console one another and celebrate the life of someone they'd loved.

The wake had been well planned, well provisioned and, God knows, well attended. Steve had taken care of it as he took care of pretty much everything in his life; logically, efficiently and without any outward display of emotion.

After that, he stopped speaking.

…

Danny was pretty sure as soon as the door was closed behind the last mourner; his friend had gotten drunk and stayed that way. Steve had been ordered to take the week off and more if needed. He hadn't answered his phone since then. No one wanted to intrude but the ohana had continued trying to reach him.

After a couple days with many voice-mail messages but no call-backs, Danny had gone to the house to knock on his door but when he arrived found it unlocked. Pushing it open and calling out he'd received no answer.

Cautiously proceeding into the living room, he found Steve just inside passed out on the sofa, an empty fifth of whiskey on the coffee table beside him and no evidence he'd used a glass to drink it with. After several entreaties to wake, Danny had roused his friend only enough to be told to mind his own business and to hear a demand he leave.

Having ascertained that Steve was only drunk and not dead, he did as ordered and left but knew he'd be back. Even though his friend needed and deserved some solitude, he wasn't going to let him wallow in his grief alone.

In the days following, the cousins had stopped by several times and tried to get him to talk or at least eat something but after a while, gave up and left it to his best friend to try to get through to him. They knew Danny would never give up on the man he considered his brother.

On the next visit, he'd thrown his drunken friend fully clothed into the shower and turned the cold water tap on full blast hoping it would shock him into a greater state of sobriety. But it only pissed him off. Drunk on his ass or not, Steven McGarrett was a strong and formidable guy. Danny had found himself on the front walk on his derriere within a minute of that failed exercise. But nevertheless he'd keep trying. Steve had yet to talk about it . . . about the death.

The haole detective had come over nearly every day since if just to sadly observe the wreckage. In what were probably drunken rages, Steve had pretty much destroyed whatever was breakable and a few things Danny thought weren't – breakable that is.

Reluctant to see what latest destruction awaited him; lips compressed in frustration, the worried man sat in his car in the driveway staring at the house for several more minutes.

Pretty much everything that had hung on the walls was now in a heap on the floor. Every dish, every cup or tumbler, even every mirror – all smashed into thousands of pieces. Last time he was here he'd noticed there were a couple of chairs that weren't yet kindling but most all else was candidate for a bonfire or landfill.

The sad realization was that things were broken. Hearts were broken. _Steve_ was broken.

Gathering himself with a tired sigh, he exited the Camaro to stride up the leaf littered walkway to the porch. He knocked and waited but, as usual, there was no response from within. He knocked once again but waited only a brief moment before trying the handle. As on previous occasions, it wasn't locked. Steve just didn't care anymore or was maybe hoping some evildoer with a grudge would burst in to put him out of his misery.

"Steven!" he called out as he pushed open the door. On the odd chance the SEAL was lurking about with a loaded gun, he proceeded cautiously. "Steven!" he called again but again received no answer.

Entering the dimness, he wrinkled his nose at the stuffiness and the smell of stale clothing and booze-soaked skin. Every window was closed with curtains drawn tightly over them. He stood waiting for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light.

Not finding Steve on the couch next to the door as he had last time he was here, he went further into the room. Not really expecting an answer, he called up the stairway. The television atop the cabinet opposite the couch was on with the sound turned down low enough that it was almost inaudible. Meerkats were scampering about on its screen. When this was over and Steve was feeling more himself, he'd have to bust his friend for his taste in television programs. Deciding to check around downstairs first, he went toward the kitchen.

"Steven? You down here?" he called.

Stepping through the doorway he saw the body on the floor. "Shit!" he cried out and rushed to kneel next to it. Feeling for that place just below the angle of jaw, he was relieved to find a relatively strong cadence pulsing beneath his fingers.

"Shit." he said again, only this time a lot more softly.

Carefully rolling Steve onto his back, he found a smallish gash on his friend's forehead that had bled profusely as head wounds tend to do no matter how minor the damage. The small puddle of blood on the linoleum beneath combined with the vision of his partner lying motionless nearly provided Danny's own voyage to the Great Beyond as his heart had nearly beat out of his chest in panic.

But Steve was still among the living and his friend was teary-eyed with relief, (and no small measure of anger). After pausing to wipe the moisture from his own face Danny had roused the drunken man enough to get him up from the floor to patch him up.

After the antiseptic, gauze and tape, he'd given him a cup of strong coffee but it didn't stay down. Steve staggered to the bathroom to puke it up then dry heave for what seemed forever before passing out once again.

Lieutenant Commander Steven J. McGarrett was a fucking mess.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Unlike my others, this story had been completed ****before**** I began posting, (finally got tired of frantic, coffee fueled, all-nighters to publish or perish). Of course, I still have to mess with each chapter before letting it go but will try to update every Sunday and Wednesday.**

_**Please**_** review if you'd be so kind.**


	2. The Very Gentle

The Unbroken – Chapter 2

**Here's the next a day earlier than planned due to some not so subtle hints from you kind but impatient readers. Response to the first chapter just floored me. Your comments, follows and favorites are so very much appreciated. I rely on you lovely people to nudge the story along in the right direction. Even though this one has pretty much been completed, there is always 'wiggle room' for changes so your ideas and suggestions are welcome.**

**Disclaimer: Only the mistakes are mine.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

The Very Gentle

Several days ago he'd run the truck into a ditch. It had been pulled out, towed away from its muddy mishap and deposited in his driveway. Afterward, he'd stood looking through bloodshot eyes at the mangled vehicle and come to the conclusion he was lucky he hadn't been killed, injured, or taken anyone else out with him. Of course, luck is relative.

He knew his partner was behind the towing directive and suspected the reason the Silverado was sitting in his driveway at this moment instead of in the bay of a repair shop was that it was meant to be an object lesson in the consequences of drinking and driving.

The patrolmen who'd shown up at the scene to take the report could have and should have run him in but being a fellow member of the self-protective law enforcement community they only gave him 'the talk' . . . and called Danny. That part didn't go well.

His ears were still ringing from the in-your-face, full-volume, full-animation rant.

Now he had a problem, (well, another problem). Chu's Market was the only source within easy walking distance but after news of his unfortunate misadventure with the truck had reached Sam Chu; it was no longer that source. It was still something of a shock that anyone cared enough to deny him the very thing he needed; the thing that would make it bearable during the too brief interludes between alcohol-induced slumbers.

He sat blankly staring at the television screen that flickered in the darkened room. This time, there were cheetahs on the hunt. He watched as one of the spotted predators took down a delicately beautiful gazelle; mentally wincing as the big cat held onto the tiny animal's throat until it stopped struggling.

Lately he'd taken to leaving the television on like Danny did during the night but despite being mired in the dark sludge of his own mind; declined to listen to the annoying infomercials his partner apparently had no problem with. He usually left it on something like this, the Animal Planet channel with the sound low enough that it was only a barely audible murmur. Sometimes he'd wake to see a predator munching on a fuzzy bunny or something equally as defenseless like the unfortunate gazelle.

Stuff like this hadn't bothered him much in the past. He didn't know why it bothered him now. He'd been a hunter himself - a predator. His prey had sometimes been wild game but now it was usually other humans. He watched transfixed as the cheetah dragged its catch into the tall grass.

…..

It had been difficult killing the woman. She was quite beautiful. Her eyes reminded him of a deer; large and dark and soulful. He always hated to kill beautiful things but sometimes killing was necessary.

_This_ had been necessary.

The sun had sunk below the line of eucalyptus on the hill above the cabin; long purplish shadows interspersed with the golden castings of the shapes between them striped the meadow before him. He rocked as he sat with the framed photo in his lap. The face that smiled out at him from the flat surface was so gentle. At one time he was that way too. That's why she loved him. Several times as they lay entwined in each other's arms she said it was his gentleness that had attracted her. Now, his bed was empty and cold; his heart the same.

Sighing, he continued the slow back and forth in the creaky old rocker she'd made him drag to their cabin. He was glad she'd prevailed over his objections at having to pack it on his back to get it here. It was one of the things that made him feel she was still here. He closed his eyes and luxuriated in the warm air gliding over his skin, in the scent of the dense green forest, in the sound of the wind brushing an unseen hand through the treetops. She lived on in those things. He could pretend for a while that she was inside making dinner and would call him any moment and tell him to wipe the mud off his boots before coming in to eat.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly before opening his eyes, he rose to go back inside. There was rain coming. Just as he shut the screened door it began to splat noisily on the tin roof of the porch. He could almost hear her scolding him. She'd teasingly tell him he hadn't enough sense to come out of the rain; that he'd catch cold if he stayed outside.

With a sad smile he entered the empty cabin. He couldn't afford to get sick now. He had work to do.

…

He knew he should get up but he didn't want to become that awake. Nope, staying in darkness was far preferable to looking at himself in the light. He was certain it wouldn't be a pretty sight. He scrubbed a hand over a bristly jaw and groaned before levering himself into a sitting position.

Reaching toward the bottle on the coffee table, he picked it up to discover it empty_. Dammit._

"When did I finish off that one?" he wondered aloud as he unsteadily set the empty container back onto the cluttered surface. It fell over with a loud clink against another empty and sent them both crashing to the floor; one to roll under the couch, the other to rest against the leg of the coffee table.

Now, he had a dilemma. Even if he walked the two miles to Chu's; he couldn't buy another bottle. The truck didn't run well enough to get him anywhere else. How the hell was he supposed to stay drunk if he didn't have a way to get anything more to keep him that way?

_Oh well, time to call a cab._

He'd just picked up the phone when he felt a blast of cooler, fresher air and the light from the open doorway was blocked by someone who stood at the threshold. An upward glance revealed a scowling Danny standing arms crossed; staring down at him in obvious disapproval.

"Hey partner." he greeted blinking blearily up at the blonde man. "Could you possibly give me a ride somewhere?"

Replied his friend who, though not showing it, was nearly overjoyed his partner was at least speaking "If that ride is to a hospital sure."

"Never mind then. Was just going to call a cab." said Steve rolling his eyes before deciding it maybe wasn't such a good idea to do so. Having consumed pretty much nothing other than what could be poured out of a bottle for who knows how long, his stomach was definitely telling him to knock it off.

Danny, taking in the unshaven face, stained T-shirt and grungy sweat pants his partner sported, pronounced, "You. Are. A. Mess."

"Thanks. Remind me to unfriend you on face-book." replied the unkempt man on the sofa who sat scowling up at him.

Suspecting he already knew the answer as he sat down next to his scruffy partner, the detective asked, "So where is it that you want to go partner?"

"Closest place that sells booze that isn't Chu's Market."

"Buddy, the last thing you need is more alcohol. You _could_ use a bath though. You smell like a barroom floor."

"Nope, no bath and haven't had enough to drink yet. 'm still conscious."

"You mean unlike last time when you only woke long enough to ralph on me?"

"It was your own fault. You shouldn't even have been here." irritably replied Steve

Danny shook his head at the red-eyed seriously disheveled man who stared defiantly back at him. The blonde averted his gaze to look around the room; amazed at the chaos. Since he'd known Steve, the man had been annoyingly neat. His OCD nature never permitted him to leave dirty dishes in the sink, clutter on his desk at work or even a speck of dirt on his truck. This place right now is a pigsty.

"You fire the maid babe?" he asked blandly

"You don't like it you can always leave." said Steve, "Actually, why don't you?"

"Not going anywhere yet. Gotta talk to this horse's ass I know and get him to pull himself together."

"Fuck off Danny. Leave me alone."

"Uh uh. Not gonna happen. You gotta get yourself together my friend."

"I'm as together as I wanna be." was the surly reply as Steve paled then stood rather unsteadily and quickly made his way across the room to the downstairs bath and slammed the door behind him.

Danny could hear the sound of retching for several long moments and then the flush of the toilet and sound of water in the sink.

Steve emerged with face and hair wet, drying himself with an incongruously flower patterned towel. He remembered when Steve had complained about Cath's taste in linens. At the time it had amused him to see the SEAL embroiled in such mundane domesticity. It was a wonder Steve hadn't insisted on a camouflage pattern. Catherine had worked hard at domesticating her boyfriend.

"Steve we miss you." called Danny to his partner who walked right past him as though he wasn't there.

Huffing in frustration he stood to follow the still wobbly man to the kitchen, he could see Steve rummaging through cupboards, slamming their doors and swearing.

"Dammit!" cursed the SEAL as whatever he was looking for obviously hadn't been found.

Despite being so pointedly ignored, Danny continued his one-sided conversation, "Without you there isn't anyone around to crack the whip and you know Kono, she just sits at her desk chewing gum and reading online movie magazines when she isn't texting Justin Bieber. You gotta come back and straighten that girl out."

The attempt at humor fell flat. Steve only snorted in annoyance and began sorting through the bottles on the counter; trying to find one with something left in it.

Danny kept at him, "You know I don't have anyone to argue with. Chin only looks back at me with this maddeningly Zen expression and shines me on. I think he plans to start chanting and levitating during lunch. There's no one to fight over the keys with when you're not around."

"You can keep your damned keys." growled Steve as he quit the kitchen and made his way out its door to turn toward the stairway. "As a matter of fact, you can shove 'em up your ass."

Reining in an angry reply, Danny doggedly pursued him up the stairs, "Look, you moron, neither I nor any of your other friends can just stand by and let you kill yourself. Not gonna happen."

Halfway up, Steve stopped and turned to glare at him, "Danny, if I'd wanted to kill myself, you damned well know I could've done it already. I do have several guns in the house you know. I could off myself any damned time I want to." he proclaimed with an airy waive toward where the gun safe sat in the den.

Standing two steps down from his friend and feeling a chill brush over his skin, the detective just stared back for a long moment before speaking. "Steven, babe, I know you're hurting and you miss Cath but you know for an absolute fact she wouldn't want to see you this way. She wouldn't want you to destroy yourself."

Steve flinched at the mention of her name but turned to continue ascending the stairs.

Once again, Danny followed him upward. "Cath would be really pissed at you. She wouldn't want . . . "

Steve suddenly stopped and whirled toward him, face twisted in anger as he bellowed, "SHE'S DEAD DANNY!", then only slightly softer exclaimed chokingly, "How can it matter what she'd want? She's not fucking here anymore."

The despair in his friend's voice knifed through him. "I know." said Danny softly, "But she wouldn't want this for you. In your heart you know that."

Steve stared back at him for a long moment and Danny could see the desolation behind the bloodshot eyes before he heard, "Don't have a heart anymore! She _was_ my heart! Now she's gone and . . . ", becoming silent again Steve swallowed and shook his head then turned to finish the climb up the stairway.

Danny followed him up and through the bedroom doorway. Strangely, this room looked far better than the rest of the house. There was nothing broken in here and the bed was still neatly made. Steve stopped in his tracks to stare at it for a moment before seeming to tiredly deflate. Taking an unsteady step toward it he collapsed to sit on its edge.

Danny hesitated briefly; then taking a deep, centering, breath and letting it slowly out went to perch next to him. They sat that way, side by side, for another few minutes; neither saying a word. He so wanted to gather his friend in his arms as he'd done with his daughter countless times when she was hurting and tell him everything would be alright. But of course neither of them would believe that. It wouldn't ever be alright. The only hope was that in time the pain would recede and only the good memories would be left floating on the surface to obscure the bad ones that lurked in the darkness at the bottom.

"Steven . . . ", Danny turned to the mute man sitting next to him whose face was turned toward the window, "It's time to get yourself together and get on with your life."

There was no response as Steve continued to sit staring blankly at curtains stirring in the humid breeze at the half open window. Finally, taking a shaky breath, he stood and muttered, "Shit. Where's the phone. I gotta call a cab."

As Steve stalked toward the door, Danny followed behind him beseeching, "Please, talk to me babe. Let me help you."

The tall man turned with a hard look and a bitter chuckle, "You want to help?" he asked, "Then give me a ride to a liquor store."

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**I know so far it's probably much too like those dismal, black and white, bare-leafed, shot in the dead of winter, art-house movies. Not to worry. Things will be getting a little livelier in upcoming chapters.**

**Reviews would be most welcome. Next chapter up on Sunday.**


	3. Many Are Strong

The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 3

**Here's the next. I'm aware some of you aren't too thrilled that Cath is no longer with us but no one else's death would affect our hero so deeply other than Danny's. I could never off the Jersey boy. Even if I wrote it myself, I'd be depressed for months!**

**Thank you so much for the reviews, alerts and favorites. They are the kibble that keeps this puppy going. Some of you have made excellent suggestions as to what you'd like to see in this tale. Even though the story has been completed I'll try to work a few of them in if possible.**

**Disclaimer: CBS pretty much owns most of my fantasies and I think the bank owns everything else so there is no money made from this.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Many are Strong

They'd struck a bargain. After a bit of back and forth, Steve agreed to clean up if Danny went to get another bottle of whiskey and be back within twenty minutes. He knew it was only a half-realized victory but it was only the one bottle and, if not actually feeling better, Steve would wind up at least looking, (and smelling), better.

Chu's Market was only a couple miles away. A small mom & pop barely larger than a convenience store; it had been part of the neighborhood for years. He'd shopped here a few times when picking up last minute provisions for the ohana's sometimes impromptu barbeques.

Danny parked the Camaro in the dusty, unpaved lot and entered the cool interior. Walking past racks of chips and other snacks, stacks of canned goods and bins of fruit and vegetables he stopped at the back wall to scan the shelves, looking for the same label he'd seen on the empties at Steve's. Fairly inexpensive, it wasn't rotgut, but nowhere near the top of the line. If Steve wasn't a cheap drunk he was at least a cost-effective one.

Picking up the fifth of Wild Turkey he brought it to the counter where he set it down, telling the man behind the register, "Have to get a couple more things."

Steve probably hadn't paid much attention lately to anything that didn't come in a bottle and any perishables not stored in the freezer were most likely a penicillin farm by now. To Danny edibles were always a marginal call at Steve's place anyway. Edamame had never been on the list of things anyone from Jersey ever considered food.

From what he'd observed, the majority of dishware at Steve's was toast so he first went looking for paper plates and cups. He didn't have a problem using the stash of Disney princess paper goods leftover from his daughter's birthday party held at Steve's a couple months ago but it had been purchased by Catherine as part of Gracie's surprise. Feeling it was just one more thing Steve shouldn't have as a reminder, he opted for a new, unembellished, supply.

Picking up one of the little store's handbaskets to throw his purchases into, next came a loaf of bread, then a stop at the small deli section for some ham and a package of cheese. From other aisles he threw in a carton of orange juice, a couple cans of soup, some yogurt and a few pieces of fruit before taking the now heavier basket up to the counter. As the clerk rang up his groceries, he spotted a display of candy near the register and threw in a couple chocolate bars as well.

"You're the guy who sometimes comes in with Steve McGarrett right?" asked Sam Chu as he hit the 'total' key and Danny pulled out his wallet to pay for his purchases.

When the compact man nodded in the affirmative, the clerk/owner, a friendly grin crinkling his round face said, "Sometimes you bring your daughter in with you too right? Cute kid."

"Thanks." smiled Danny, "But I think it's due to her mother's genes, not mine."

As Sam put the bottle of whiskey into a separate paper bag before tucking it in with the other purchases he asked, "This for Steve?"

"Umm yeah." answered Danny wondering if it was a mistake confirming the alcohol was for his friend. "Isn't this where he usually gets his whiskey?"

"Up until a few days ago . . . before I told him I wouldn't sell him any more of it."

"You're selling it to me though?"

"Yeah, this time, but tell him not to come here if he only wants to buy alcohol. Officer Tagata was in a couple days ago and told me Steve had run his truck off the road and wound up in a ditch. The guy's a mess. It's a miracle he isn't dead right now. I don't want to be party to him killing himself." said Chu shaking his head sadly.

"Thanks for looking out for him. His ohana appreciates it." said Danny as he took his receipt then picked up the two paper sacks of groceries.

Shaking his head sadly, the middle-aged man said, "It was a terrible thing that happened; they were a nice couple. I understand why he's such a disaster right now but I hate to see him ruin himself. Steve's a good guy."

"Yeah, Steve is the best of the good guys. He's gonna get himself straightened out. He has people who'll help."

"It's good he's got someone. I hope they're strong 'cause they're gonna have to be. There's a few of us around here who knew his dad. Steve was always a good kid but I know he's a lot like his old man – stubborn and not one to ask for help. It's fucked up brah." sighed the grocer

"You have no idea." replied the haole detective

"Well, I don't know if McGarrett's pissed at me right now but tell him I said hi anyway."

"Will do." replied Danny, "Then I'll point out to him you've probably saved his life."

"Good luck to you, to both of you." said the grocer

In return Danny gave a brief smile and a small salute then walked out the door thinking, _How bad off do you have to be before people who aren't even part of your family are worried about you?_

…..

He let himself in with the spare key he'd never given back from months ago when Steve was scheduled to testify in court and there was need to borrow a sleeping bag for one of Gracie's Aloha Girls' camping trips. His daughter's own sleeping bag had strangely wound up almost glued shut with glittery nail polish and was probably going to have to be replaced. _Who polishes their nails on a camping trip?_ wondered her father at the time.

"Steve! Yo!" he called out as he entered and set the groceries down on the floor just inside the doorway. There was no room on the coffee table for them. It was cluttered with days' worth of debris. He called out again in warning as he trudged up the stairs to Steve's bedroom; wanting to make sure his friend hadn't weaseled out of the deal to get cleaned up and was just sitting there looking like ten miles of bad road.

Hearing the hiss of the shower he seated himself in the chair by the door and waited for his partner to make a, hopefully, not completely naked appearance. After several long minutes, he heard the shower shut off and called out, "Steve! I'm waiting out here so please don't come out in just your birthday suit. Haven't had lunch yet and I don't want to lose my appetite."

There was no snarky response from the other side of the door but Danny wasn't really expecting one. After several more minutes Steve still hadn't emerged. Worried, Danny walked to the bathroom door and knocked.

"Steven!" he called out, "You okay? I know you might just be shaving off that Grizzly Adams beard but give me an answer here."

When there was no response, Danny knocked one more time, waited another few seconds and then said, "Alright, I'm coming in. You'd better have at least a towel around your ass!"

He opened the thankfully unlocked door and peered into the cloud of steam within. At first he didn't even see him but there huddled on the floor was his partner; knees drawn up to his chest, face hidden in the arms encircling them.

"Babe?" Danny went to him and kneeling on the damp floor reached to put a hand on one shaking shoulder. He let it rest there for a long moment without saying anything; hoping just the touch would be of some comfort.

"Danny!" choked Steve into hands he now clamped to his face, "I can't do this. I can't . . . ". The rest of the sentence was muffled and unintelligible.

Throat tightening, his friend was barely able to declare, "You'll get through this. I know it's not gonna be easy but your ohana is going to help you. You're not alone here Steven."

The man huddled silently sobbing on the bathroom floor refused to look up.

"You can cry all you want babe. Just go ahead and let it out. We're not gonna let you go through this alone. You have no idea how much people care about you." crooned the blonde as he sat to pull his partner into his arms and Steve leaned to bury his face against him where neck met shoulder.

They sat there on the cold, damp, tile, silently rocking back and forth for several silent minutes. Danny could feel the trembling. His friend's control over what was threatening to burst forth was disintegrating. Then, with a sharp intake of breath Steve abruptly straightened and pulled away.

With a heartbroken wail he cried, "It smelled like her hair . . . her shampoo was in the shower . . . it smells like her hair . . . it smelled like Cath . . . ! Sobbing loudly now, he curled forward once again to cry into his hands and once again Danny's arms went around his friend's shoulders.

…..

Twenty minutes had passed. Steve had finally cried it all out and sat with head resting back against the wall, Danny still beside him.

"I don't know about you big guy but my butt's numb from sitting on this floor. You ready to get up and go get dressed? If you're not, that's okay. We can just sit here and order a pizza. We won't starve. I've got my phone on me. I bet they won't even blink delivering it to a bathroom. I'm sure they've had weirder requests. Someday I'll have to tell you the amazing and sometimes frightening tales of my gig as Mama Gia's pizza delivery guy. I had my own 'Mrs. Robinson' you know."

There was a small smile at Danny's reference to the original cougar but without saying anything Steve nodded. Legs tingling with restoration of blood flow, the blonde man stood to pull him up. Danny, feeling a bit shallow at being grateful Steve had managed to wrap a towel around himself before collapsing, helped his friend walk/stagger from the bathroom. While Steve sat exhausted on the bed, Danny bustled around gathering clothing and another towel. Holding up a clean pair of sweats and a T-shirt he asked, "These okay?" as he threw the towel onto the bed next to his friend.

Steve nodded and held out a hand for the apparel.

"You wanna get dressed while I go make us something to eat?" asked the blonde

"Not hungry Danny." mumbled the man now half-heartedly running the towel over his hair.

"Okay but I am. Mrs. Williams' little boy does not run solely on malasadas despite what his Neanderthal partner thinks. I'm gonna go fix something to eat."

"I don't think there's much here." said Steve sounding the most engaged he'd been during the entirety of this visit.

"I brought a couple things from the market considering you probably have something unspeakable growing in your fridge by now."

"Knock yourself out." answered Steve as he waved toward the doorway.

Danny walked tiredly back downstairs; relieved his friend hadn't yet asked for the whiskey but he knew that may still be coming.

…

Leaving Steve to get ready to face the world, he picked up the bags left on the entryway floor. Pausing in the kitchen doorway, he realized there was no way to even begin assembling a meal without first cleaning up the mess.

Searching for the broom he hoped to find in one piece, then improvising a dustpan out of a section of what had once been a very unlucky plastic serving tray, he began the daunting task of sweeping up; all the while muttering about 'animals and the messes they can make'.

…

The scent of gardenias was still too strong here.

Throwing his shaving supplies into a dopp kit he'd pulled from a drawer, and snatching up his clothes, he went downstairs to use the guest bath.

Their bedroom and the attached bath hadn't been used since right after the funeral. Sleeping in the big bed alone was too . . . something. He didn't even have words to describe the feeling. Though he'd spent most of his life falling asleep without another body in the same bed, the idea of never again having Catherine's warm softness next to him; of hearing her singing off-key in the shower was almost overwhelming.

The bath was at the bottom of the stairway and from the landing, he caught a brief glimpse of the living room. Donning mental blinkers, he proceeded to the bottom of the stairs and slipped into the guest bathroom.

Cautiously sweeping aside reflective fragments of glass scattered on the countertop he set the shaving kit on the tile next to him and stooped to look at himself in the largest remaining piece of mirror. The smaller shards surrounding it gave a disconcerting funhouse effect to his reflection. Dark drops of long dried blood were spattered on the edges of the sink and on the floor below. He paused to examine the scabbed-over cuts on his knuckles and across the back of his hand. He'd probably broken the mirror days ago by punching it. He couldn't remember specifics of his obvious rampage or rampages but knew he'd trashed the place. He didn't want to think of whatever else may lay in pieces.

Shaving and getting dressed, he could hear Danny bustling about the kitchen. In the sound of a broom sweeping across the linoleum was the tinkle of broken glass joined by mumbled swearing and then the sound of debris emptied into a trash container. How the guy could be such a loyal friend to someone who obviously didn't deserve it still amazed him.

Snorting in self-disgust he stared at his distorted reflection. He didn't like what he saw. The face that stared back at him was haggard and drawn and he hadn't realized his hair had grown so long. Not bothering with a comb, (he probably couldn't even find one right now), he ran his hands through the damp strands to coax it into some semblance of order. When it was this long it would start to curl - one of the reasons he kept it short. It was a waste of time trying to tame it.

Danny would have a cow or perhaps an entire herd of them if he'd witnessed the half-assed attempt at grooming. His partner was obsessive about his hair. Even in a stiff breeze he'd rarely seen a blonde strand out of place. It was like it had been laminated to his partner's skull.

Putting the cap back on the toothpaste he glanced to check if the seat was down on the john . . . and froze. There was no longer any need to do that; there wouldn't be anyone here to care. He stood immobilized in the small room; the sudden rush of grief triggered by such an inconsequential act.

"Hey!" he heard at his moment of suspension. The voice coming through the closed door asked, "You getting your ass in here or what?"

Jerked out of his reverie he called back, "Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses." as he reached to put down the seat before turning to leave the bathroom.

…

Starting his morning, Chin Ho Kelly walked back to his desk from the break room. Since the funeral it had been really weird not to see Steve as he passed his office. Their worry about their leader hadn't lessened but the cousins knew Danny wasn't one to give up on such a daunting project. Even if said project put up a fight like a cornered badger.

He yawned and set down his coffee mug then powered up his laptop to check his mail. A few taps and he arrived at his in-box. Lazily scrolling through it, suddenly, he sat forward to stare at the screen. The title catching his eye: 'It wasn't an accident' with the sender identified as 'a friend'.

Cautiously, he clicked on it and when the message opened, he froze.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Next update by Wednesday. Steve will be a little more with it and story should begin to move a bit faster in upcoming chapters. Would appreciate hearing what you thought of this one. **_**Please**_** review. Think of it as feeding a poor starving puppy.**


	4. Afterward

Unbroken – Chapter 4

**Thank you all for the wonderful response to this story. Your reviews, comments, follows and favorites are like little gifts left in my in-box. Thank you! I unwrap them with glee and without the mess of ribbon and paper.**

**Have been busily revising this story to try to include some of your suggestions. It's sort of like taking out a can at the bottom of an elaborately stacked grocery store display. One false move and suddenly you're buried under a pile of chicken noodle soup.**

**If any of you are familiar with Imaginary Beta, you know she misses stuff all the time. If the mistakes don't bother you too much please let them slide. If they do, please let me know so I can kick her ass and get her to fix it.**

**Disclaimer: Have a better chance at winning the lotto than getting paid for this writing.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Afterward

Two weeks ago:

He didn't know why she chose this particular night to go out to dinner. He tried to tell her there were plenty of groceries at the house and he was even volunteering to cook. She just laughed telling him, "Well, I'm glad at least one of us knows how. If you didn't actually like omelets for dinner and you didn't do any cooking yourself we would've starved to death by now."

He'd smiled. It was true, Cath couldn't cook; not that he was much better but between the two of them they could usually concoct something decently edible. He loved her all the more for being honest enough to laugh at herself for her lack of culinary skills. That kind of stuff didn't matter. She'd been the only one for him for a long time; he was just too dense to realize it at first.

There'd been that brief break a few years ago when both of them had agreed it was getting too serious.

After they'd split up Cath had that 'thing' with someone else for a while and he himself had . . . well . . . pretty much pounced on any female with a pulse. But it didn't matter how many women found their way to his bed or he to theirs, no one was Catherine. He knew that now.

But that was in the past. Now they had each other and neither of them would do anything to screw it up. He was sure of that; sure of himself and sure of her. She could wrap him around her finger or kick his ass. She was the only one.

He smiled as he put the truck in gear and pulled out of the Palace's parking lot to meet Cath at the restaurant. That chill he'd been feeling most of the day was gone now; banished by the anticipation of her warm smile, her warm body. As the truck rolled toward its destination its driver was content.

The man following the big blue Silverado reached for the burner phone beside him to punch in a number. It was time.

….

He sat nursing a beer and looking at his watch as he idly surveyed the people coming and going from the eatery. It was one of her favorite restaurants. The food was decent but not really all that special. She just loved to sit in the glow of candlelight and take her time sipping a glass of merlot as soft music played in the background. She loved the ambiance here though it really didn't do that much for him. He'd much rather be sitting on the beach with her curled in his arms and watching the moon reflect in shimmering shards off the surface of the ocean. He wondered which would be considered more romantic?

He watched in amusement as a nervous looking young man stood to smile across the table at his date; an equally nervous appearing young woman who had joined him. On that first date with Cath, he wasn't nervous at all. It was comfortable from the start. Ignoring the still faint hovering of unease he smiled to himself. His life was finally settling into what he hadn't dared to hope for in years past: a job he loved in the place he loved with the one he loved. He didn't think he'd ever been this content.

After sitting for nearly an hour beyond the pre-arranged meeting time, he'd tried to contact her again; again hearing the call roll over to voice mail. He didn't bother to leave a message this time. There were several increasingly worried sounding ones he'd already left.

Cath was almost never late. It may turn out that she'd been unavoidably delayed but she would have called him.

That unsettling feeling that he'd be hard put to describe had once again made itself known. This vague feeling of dread had shadowed him since kissing Cath goodbye when they'd gone their separate ways this morning; he to H.Q. and she to her usual morning run before going to Pearl to fulfil a last obligation to her C.O. for what was only supposed to be a half-day gig. She and Danny actually agreed on one thing: it was too damned early to go running or swimming an hour before dawn.

Throwing down a few bills and not waiting for change he hurried from the restaurant. It was still light out; the sun making its last brilliant stand as the sky was riot with oranges, pinks and purples before the stars would come to scatter themselves across the darkening expanse.

He'd just gotten into his truck when his cell rang. Hoping to see the image of Cath's face on its display, he saw Danny's instead.

"Hey D, I was just on my way to go look for Cath. She's late meeting me for dinner and it's not like her." His gut had actually tightened when he saw his partner's I.D. pop up. He knew something was wrong. He could feel it even before Danny spoke.

Rather than a return greeting, his partner's clipped statement was, "Steve. I umm, I need you to meet me at your place."

"Danny? What's wrong?" asked the tall man already knowing it had to be something to do with Cath. His heart began to pound in his ears and his skin prickle with dread as he waited for a response.

"Just meet me there okay?"

"What's happened?" he demanded, "Tell me dammit!"

There was a clearing of a throat and an exhale but no words.

"Danny, just fucking tell me!"

"Steven . . . "

Danny didn't have to say anything more. Steve, shakily put the truck in gear and rocketed out of the lot; aiming the Silverado toward home. He knew.

...

Today:

He'd read the message displayed on his screen over and over again. It yielded nothing more than the obvious. Whoever had sent it wanted to dangle the small bit of information before them like a baited hook. It may be some sick, twisted asshole's version of a joke but he had a feeling they needed to look into it. His search for the IP address had yielded nothing. He'd immediately tracked it to Tokyo where it had been re-routed from Vancouver then again from Shanghai then Dubai and so on and so on. It could take months to find its ultimate source - if ever.

Picking up his phone, he hit speed dial for Danny.

….

Danny waited while sipping coffee and munching on a piece of toast. It had taken a while to clean up enough of the debris in the kitchen to make it possible to assemble even a limited meal. Part of the job was putting everything that was still operable back where it belonged.

Luckily the bits of broken glass and china had already been swept up by the time Steve padded barefoot into the kitchen; still bleary-eyed but now at least showered and clean shaven.

Danny silently evaluated his partner as the tall man walked from the doorway to the counter where a large paper cup of coffee awaited him. He started to suggest Steve warm it in the microwave then remembered the appliance had been one of the casualties. The coffeemaker had survived but there'd been need to improvise with a small sauce pan to replace its glass pot. It seems the destruction of kitchen appliances was part of Steve's stress management program.

Even though the SEAL had cleaned up he still managed to look scruffy; pastiness replacing his normally healthy tan; eyes shadowed and sunken. He looked as though he hadn't eaten or slept since the funeral.

The detective was confident he could eventually get Steve to eat even if just by appealing to logic but the sleep thing was going to be a bit more difficult. If it wasn't a matter of life or death, (and even then), Steve had always resisted taking any sort of medication.

Without saying anything, McGarrett stood surveying what was left of his kitchen. Lips tightened, he blew out a disgusted snort then lowered himself into a seat across from Danny in one of the two surviving kitchen chairs. Head down, he appeared to be concentrating on the contents of the paper cup he held with both still slightly shaking hands.

"Hey, I heated up some soup and made some toast. Let me get you some." said Danny, hoping he didn't sound like someone's insufferably cheerful mother.

"Not hungry D but thanks anyway . . . for everything." was the quiet response.

"It's not up for debate. You eat something or I'm gonna sit on you and pour it down your friggin' throat. I didn't clean up this mess just to practice my housekeeping. You know, housework or should I say demolition clearing, is not on my list of fun activities."

Steve sat regarding his partner; biting his lips and looking as though he was trying to decide how to respond.

"Okay. Maybe a little soup would be okay." he finally muttered

"Good choice. I really didn't wanna have to kick your ass." said Danny as he crossed to the stove and poured soup from the pan atop it into another paper cup and handed it and a spoon to his partner. He pushed the paper plate already sitting on the table top toward him as well. There were a couple pieces of dry toast on it.

"Thanks for the soup and . . . umm, for cleaning up the mess." mumbled Steve.

"No problem big guy. Just let me know next time you're planning on remodeling. I'll come pick up your credit card to rent a dump truck then make a trip to Wal-Mart after I take inventory of what survived."

Steve looked up in silent embarrassment but offered a slight smile.

"Eat some toast, dumbass." ordered Danny as he turned to put the empty saucepan into the sink full of sudsy water.

Steve obediently ate a piece of toast and finished most of the soup before tossing the cup into the thirty-three gallon trash can Danny had dragged in from the garage.

"Give me a minute to get some real clothes on and we can go." said Steve as he took a last sip of his now cold coffee and made a face.

"Go where?" asked the detective in puzzlement.

"To work." was the answer as though it was obvious.

"I don't think so babe." said Danny, placing hands on his hips; getting ready for an argument.

"Why not?" demanded Steve

"Why not, he asks." mumbled the blonde who ran his hands along the sides of his hair – a sure sign of frustration. "Steven, do you really think you're ready to go back to work?"

Steve actually looked surprised at the question before vigorously stating, "Yes."

"Yes? Why? Only because you're still standing?"

"Danny, don't give me any shit okay. I said yes because I can do the job." was the defensive reply as Steve stood to pour the rest of the coffee down the sink and crumpled the cup in one hand before tossing it into the near to overflowing trash container.

"So, you don't think you need a little more time to deal with this?" asked the detective waving vaguely about him.

"This? Work is how I deal with _this_" was the answer; the tall man mimicking his friend's gesture of waving his hand toward his surroundings.

"Babe, I know you try to cope by throwing yourself into the job. That's what you did after your dad was killed and again after you came back from Korea. I know you'd rather be at work than pretty much anywhere else right now but I don't think that's going to cut it this time. You're not ready yet."

Steve stared steadily at him; the mask once again slipping. Danny could see the desolation in the dark hazel depths.

"I've got nowhere else to be." was the quiet answer.

What kept Danny's heart from breaking once again was the sound of his cell phone he'd left sitting on the counter. He looked away from the eyes that had all the sadness he never hoped to see again on the face of a friend or on the face of anyone for that matter.

Leaning backward and to the right, (luckily, the phone was where Steve couldn't see the screen), the incoming I.D. identified the caller as 'Chin'. He quickly picked it up and getting past the lump in his throat chirped, "Hey Rach, what's going on? After listening to the voice on the other end for a moment said, "Sure, I'd be glad to pick up Gracie on Tuesday. Okay, talk to you later and we'll hammer out the details."

…

After the puzzling greeting and then the realization that Steve had probably been standing there close to Danny, Chin made arrangements to get the haole detective alone for a conversation. There may be nothing to the allegation that Catherine's death wasn't accidental but he needed to keep this under the radar for the moment.

If his sidelined leader got wind of the email, he knew the SEAL, orders to stand-down or not, would immediately begin his own investigation and wouldn't rest until he had an answer. Steve would be on a laser focused quest to find answers. And if what the message had presented was actually true - a quest that would no doubt end in blood.

…..

"It wasn't an accident." recited Chin, "She was only the first."

Danny and Kono looked bleakly at each across the table in the coffee shop. No one had as yet told Steve of the mysterious message. The three team members were dreading the day their leader could no longer be kept in the dark.

"Okay, let's investigate this on our own for now. HPD still thinks it's an accident and considers the case closed. If we let them in on it, there's no way to keep it from Steve." said Danny without having to add the consequences. If there was something to it, Steve wouldn't rest until he found the killer and when he did . . .

They'd already had their experience with their leader winding up in Halawa. Though the first time he'd been framed, there was no guarantee the SEAL could be kept from being locked up this time for a yet to be committed homicide.

"Did we ever get the final coroner's report?" asked Kono, reluctant to think of her friend having been the subject of an autopsy, even if it had been conducted by Max Bergman himself. She knew that Max had personally taken care of it and saw to it that the body had been released within a reasonable amount of time so the funeral could be held as quickly as possible. Dragging something like that out and delaying closure was torture for everyone.

"I requested it again." said Danny, "Apparently HPD had orders from Denning not to give us a copy of it until it had been officially declared an accidental death. He didn't want our fearless leader to run off investigating anything on his own."

"Smart man." said Chin

"Yeah, but now we need that report. I'll give Max a call." sighed Danny as they took the last sips of their beverages and stood to pay the tab and leave. These clandestine meetings felt wrong but there could be no reason provided for Steve to begin nosing around. The man was no longer out of commission . . . and he was far, far, from stupid.

…..

The little M.E. had been very fond of Catherine. She'd gone out of her way to befriend him. He knew McGarrett was back at work and was glad the Commander wasn't there when he arrived at their offices. Quickly locating the person he wanted to give it to, he'd quietly handed the manila folder to Detective Williams and then lowered his eyes and mumbled, "I'm so sorry. I hope the Comman . . . Steve will eventually recover sufficiently. I suspect that may be much more difficult if he reads this report.

Without further explanation and before Danny could even ask anything, Max Bergman turned away and walked out without another word.

Shaking his head at the abrupt exit of their odd little M.E. though, by now, he should be used to the man's sometimes quirky behavior; Danny opened his drawer and slipped the report inside. He'd already weaseled the information out of Detective Pahia; one of the HPD people assigned to the case, and didn't have the heart right now to read it. It wouldn't change anything. Catherine would still be lost; Steve as well.

There hadn't been anything new regarding Catherine's death. Further investigation by the three Five-0's had come to naught. They couldn't prove it hadn't been an accident contrary to the unsettling message Chin had received and not yet passed along to HPD.

The days had passed and things had returned to something resembling normal. Steve had decided to start taking care of himself once again but Danny knew sleep was still elusive for his friend who'd frequently come to work looking exhausted and hollow eyed. And for a guy who was pretty quiet to begin with, he was now almost mute.

Denning had welcomed Steve back to Five-0 a week ago; unaware its leader had been back on duty for several days prior to the official okay to be there. So far, they'd managed to keep the mysterious message from Steve.

…..

The fifth of Wild Turkey sat on the kitchen counter for weeks. Like the truck in the driveway had been, it was another object lesson; a reminder of a place to which he should never return. Life was moving on even if he didn't necessarily want to be part of the journey.

He'd yet to go back to sleeping in his own bedroom; preferring to stay in Mary's old room or on the couch most nights. Slowly, the house had been put back in order. Those things that were merely decorative weren't replaced. He had no interest in decorating right now. The stuff already in the house had been his dad's and he hadn't added much to it. Catherine had gotten on his case about personalizing his space a bit more and she'd been the one who picked out colors and pattern and so forth. She'd been busy making the space more reflect their two personalities. It really didn't matter now. It may never again matter.

Upon his return to work he'd immediately began searching for information on the accident. HPD had been handling it and he wasn't supposed to get involved, of course, he had to. Duke had called to check up on him and after Steve had thanked him for his concern had made a convincing argument he wouldn't get in the way if Duke were to part with anything learned so far. Other than confirming what he'd already learned from his own searches there wasn't anything new. It appeared to be a tragic accident.

The cousins wouldn't speak of it unless he asked them directly. He knew they were just trying to protect him but he had the feeling there was more they weren't telling him. Danny flatly refused to talk about it and no amount of threats or cajoling could get him to change his mind. Danny was a very protective friend . . . too protective.

It only made Steve solidify his resolve. He picked up his phone to call the M.E.'s office to request a copy of the coroner's report. For the first weeks after her death he couldn't think about it but now he could think of nothing else. There had to be something more. It couldn't just have ended with a screech of tires and . . . he set down the phone. This wasn't a good idea. This would never be a good idea. He swallowed thickly and reached for the pile of requisition forms that awaited his signature.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Next chapter should be ready by Sunday. Promised whump is still a couple weeks away. Would very much appreciate hearing what you thought of this one.**

**You guys almost have me convinced to resurrect Catherine in some way but I still think that would be a bit too soap-opera cheesy. Would like to hear your opinions on it.**


	5. To Be or Not

Chapter 5

**Thanks so much for your comments and reviews. Sorry I didn't reply to them before posting this chapter but figured you'd rather have an update than my nattering. Will be getting to them very shortly. **

**Special thanks to FicreaderT who keeps me from getting lazy and has provided impetus for Steve's possible self-revelatory moment. There will be more of it in upcoming chapters but I hope you like it. (with sincere apology to Shakespeare). Imaginary Beta only took a quick glance at this one. If you find any errors you think are gonna wreck it please let me know.**

**Disclaimer: The sun still shines despite my gloomy acceptance of never being paid for this. It's just that in Hawaii it shines brightly on two impossibly beautiful men I'll never get to meet.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

To Be or Not

"Hey Duke" he heard Danny greet the caller.

He'd passed the opened office door of his partner on the way to pick up the file Kono had been working on. The detective was conversing on his cell while standing and staring out at the deepening colors of dusk; his back to the main office and oblivious to the man right outside his doorway.

Reminding himself Duke Lukela was friends with everyone on his team, Five-0's leader tried to rid himself of suspicion something was going on they didn't want him to know about. He was about to walk on when he heard Danny exclaim, "No shit!", then with lowered voice ask, "So who did they send out?"

Now, his curiosity was definitely piqued. For the past couple weeks he hadn't been able to shake the feeling his partner had been hiding something from him. He was also aware his team had always thought him a bit paranoid but he really couldn't refute their opinions because it was that very trait that had kept him alive over the years.

"Tetrov and Pahia are pretty sharp. If there's anything to it I'm sure they'll come back with it." said the detective.

Bending down to pretend to tie his bootlace; he was making sure his reflection wasn't visible on the surface of the window Danny faced. For the next few moments the blonde continued to listen intently with phone clamped to ear.

The two names Steve had heard Danny utter were familiar. John Tetrov and Manny Pahia are two of HPD's best homicide detectives. Why would Duke be giving Danny updates on a homicide case, especially without going through him? The last homicide they'd worked with HPD was settled weeks ago. The trial date had already been set.

"So what's this guy's name? Uh huh. No, not if we can help it. Not yet." continued Danny, still unaware he was being monitored.

Hearing Chin's office door open, Steve quickly stood and continued on his way before anyone could discover him eavesdropping. He and Danny are gonna have a talk. Soon.

…..

There'd been no further contact from the originator of the threatening email but they'd finally decided to let HPD in on the investigation, albeit cautiously. They needed to keep Steve from finding anything out until they were ready to come to him with something a bit more solid than the mysterious email. The cousins, particularly Kono, weren't so sure that keeping it from him was a good idea but Danny had hung in. He'd told them if there was any major fall-out that he, himself, would take the brunt of it and tell their leader it was his decision. Their second-in-command was concerned that McGarrett wasn't yet in a good enough place to deal with it if Cath had actually been murdered.

Danny had been the one to contact Duke Lukela. He'd gotten the old cop's assurance that whoever was assigned to the case would keep it on the down-low and any information gathered would be immediately passed on to Danny himself. Duke was very much aware what was going on with the son of his old friend John McGarrett and would do his best to go along with the team's wishes. He knew how focused the elder McGarrett had been and knew his offspring was possibly even more so. He agreed it was best to keep the investigation hidden until it was determined if there was anything to the cryptic email. He'd been sure to caution Williams about keeping his team safe.

…

Lately, Steve had been a bit more like his old self though those who knew him weren't fooled.

As he'd done in the past when faced with tragedy, he threw himself into work. Five-0 had actually benefitted from having a leader who seemed to require little food or sleep and was devoted entirely to his job. Their case-closed rate which had always been phenomenal had notched up even more impressively.

It had also been alarmingly noted and discussed among the three other members of the team that Steve was even less concerned than usual for his personal safety. Danny had vowed to pull him aside after that last, way too hairy, shootout involving what seemed platoons of drug smugglers and most of the law enforcement on the island. The dust had just settled when another situation arose.

They'd gotten word from Interpol of increased human trafficking in their part of the Pacific. It was then confirmed by other sources that a 'shipment' was expected very shortly in Honolulu Harbor. They'd been waiting for it when the rusted freighter docked.

Johann Badu and his gang had been apprehended with nearly fifty captives on their way to whatever fates awaited them.

As it turned out, even Danny had to admit there wasn't time to wait for back-up as one of the captives had made a break for it and was within seconds of being killed as she ran screaming down the gangway away from her captors. She'd only managed to escape because the bastards had been overconfident about her status. She'd been nearly catatonic after having been singled out for 'special' duty to the captain of the grungy ship.

After the smoke had cleared and Chin and Kono were making sure the mop-up was sufficiently coordinated among Five-0, HPD, SWAT, EMS and INS, Steve had been the only member of law enforcement needing medical attention. It necessitated a visit to the ER but there'd been nothing life threatening. He'd just have another interesting scar to add to an already impressive collection.

To be sure, no one had expected that Armani clad buyer who'd shown up to meet the ship to be carrying a wicked automatic opener in his sock. A switchblade, no matter how expensive, seemed a little too old school for someone so well-dressed and well-connected. When he'd pulled up onto the planks of the pier in his Mercedes and was questioned, the guy asserted he was just picking up a couple of people to be used as domestics on his employer's posh estate on the North Shore. He had 'no idea' they were illegally transported here and were essentially slaves. The uniform who had supposedly patted him down had been severely reprimanded for missing the knife.

When in a desperate last ditch attempt to affect an escape, the guy had lunged at the cop cuffing him; Steve had thrown himself between the henchman and his target.

The leader of Five-0 came out of it only a bit banged up with a long, heavily bleeding, half-inch deep slice across his arm but Danny was livid.

After receiving injections, stitches, more injections and antibiotics at the ER, during which Danny was strangely silent, they were headed across the hospital parking lot to the Camaro when the blonde's ire could no longer be contained.

"GODDAMMIT! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED!" exploded forth from the compact man who suddenly stopped in his tracks on the asphalt of the parking lot to stand facing a surprised looking taller man.

Steve, startled at the exclamation that caused several people on the other side of the lot to stop and turn toward them halted and faced his apoplectic partner who went on, "'Cause if you are, let me know and I'll just fucking shoot you myself and get it over with! There's no need to waste this much time and miles of tape and gauze and scare the crap outta your ohana and everyone else on this fucking island if that's really what you want!"

"Calm down Danny! Everything turned out. We got the bad guys, no one got hurt, well not fatally, and the state of Hawaii is now safer for orphans and puppies okay?" smirked Steve as he fussed with the adhesive tape on his arm.

"No! NO! It's not okay!" huffed Danny, stomping back and forth in front of his now bemused partner.

Steve first glancing around to see how much of an audience had gathered said, "Just calm down D! You're gonna give yourself a stroke. Gracie still needs her dad."

"Oh. No. You. Didn't." huffed Danny, hands now on hips and eyes apparently trying to bore holes into the man who stood facing him.

"Why are you talking like someone on MTV?" asked Steve starting to cross his arms smugly over his chest before realizing it wasn't a good idea as it pulled on the only recently placed stitches.

"You didn't just try to distract me with visions of my daughter being fatherless." bit out Danny

"Well . . . "

"You have a giant screw loose Steven and I'm not going to be party to you committing suicide by bad-guy."

"What the hell are you talking about?" demanded Steve, no longer looking so smug.

"You know goddam well what I'm talking about!" growled the detective. "You won't kill yourself but you're gonna let any punk with a sharpened stick take a shot at it? That's just . . ." Danny's arms wind-milled like copter blades as he tried to come up with something scathing enough to make an impression on his partner.

"Cowardly?"

Danny froze. His face became as expressionless as Steve's could at times. He stared for several long seconds at his partner before saying, "Yes."

"Danny," tried Steve in what he thought was a reasonable tone, "that guy was a retired merc. He had a spring-loaded switchblade. He could've taken Naioki's head off with it."

His partner, with an eerie stillness, had no immediate response. After another few seconds the calm, quiet reply was, "You're the one who used the word Steven. It's _your_ word. Own up to it now or I'm outta here . . . for good." The blonde's statement hung in the air like strangely weightless bricks.

Steve froze. He'd never thought of himself as cowardly but it was the first word that came to mind. Why had it come so easily unbidden to roll off his tongue like that?

Danny, knowing whatever Steve's response would be, it would have serious repercussions, finally turned with a dismissive snort and stalked toward the car, climbing in and immediately starting it to slam the Camaro into gear and scorch out of the lot past a stunned Steve who stood staring after him.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**It seems most of you are now resigned to Cath actually being dead rather than just temporarily missing. I'm glad because, though I'd have done it, I didn't really want to re-write a major part of the story.**

**This was only minor whump but something a bit more major will be coming in future chapters. Your thoughts would be much appreciated._ How'd I do?_**


	6. It Kills Impartially

Chapter 6

**Here's the next a bit sooner than promised. It reveals a bit more of the 'how' of Cath's death.**

**Having industrial grade ADD means I have all the patience of a puppy with a bad case of separation anxiety. The 'force' made me update this before responding to your comments on the last chapter but I will be doing so as soon as I hit the enter key that posts this one. Please forgive my rudeness. In the meantime, know how much your words mean to someone who is so easily discouraged. You guys are awesome!**

**Imaginary Beta took a quick last look at it but she got talked into making risotto and has to go to the market for ingredients. What the hell is risotto?**

**Disclaimer: Money was never the object . . . right?**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

It Kills Impartially

It hadn't been that difficult to arrange. A few bucks to the right people living at the edges of legality and it had been done.

He just had to make sure the two of them weren't together. He didn't want McGarrett dead yet. There was still more grieving ahead of him if everything went as planned.

It wasn't even that complicated a task to rig the heavy compressed-gas cylinder to fly off the back of the truck during the 'accident'. She probably didn't even know what hit her when it came through the windshield and crushed her chest. He was glad she'd died instantly and that her face hadn't been marred. Killing beautiful things was so sad and such a waste. At least she'd looked good at the funeral.

McGarrett had been quiet and contained but everyone else seemed such a wreck. Well, maybe he'd get a stronger reaction of out him with this next one.

He looked at the photos laid out on the table in front of him. The girl was lovely; all long limbs and exotic beauty. The Hawaiian detective who wore those hideous shirts smiled out of one of the photos . . . maybe him? Maybe that blonde detective McGarrett seemed so close to would be next. Maybe he'd save him for last. Maybe not . . . then there was the little girl . . . hmm. Decisions, decisions.

…..

"Hey Danny." greeted Chin as he assisted, (stuffed), the last of the traffickers in HPD's patrol wagon. It was full of those destined for future living arrangements courtesy of the State of Hawaii or perhaps even a federal lock-up depending on how the charges and jurisdictions sorted themselves out.

"I need you to go pick Steve up at Queens." said Danny without preamble in an obviously exasperated tone.

_Oh oh, _thought the Hawaiian detective, he knew that tone. Steve and Danny had gotten into it again. It was something that happened on occasion, the occasions being not quite so widely spaced of late.

Chin waved Kono over so they could compare notes on whether there was anything left for them to do here before leaving. She stood beside him with a questioning look on her face.

"Umm . . . why isn't Steve with you?" asked Chin as Kono was trying to read his expression. It was a challenge because her cousin's face rarely revealed anything of his thoughts but she was actually the only one who had a chance of doing so.

"I may have left him in the parking lot." was the still angry sounding reply.

"Uh huh." was Chin's bland response before asking, "In one piece?"

"Yeah, killing him would have been too easy. I want him to stew for a while. He has a lot to think about before we speak again . . . if ever."

"Brah, you gotta cut him some slack right now." said Chin already knowing the comment wouldn't be well met by their outspoken haole.

"No, Chin. I've cut him too much slack for too long. It's time for some tough love and the asshole's not gonna make it easy. Not that he ever makes _anything_ easy."

"Okay, I'll give him a call to make sure he hasn't already called a cab or is just standing there waiting for you to change your mind and come back to get him."

"Yeah, I don't think he'd even consider that option right now to be honest."

"What did you do?" asked Chin trying to keep from sounding too accusing while Kono nodded in approval of his brave question.

"Let's just say that I only agreed with his choice of words." was the terse response

Mystified, but realizing he wasn't going to get any further information from Danny – not until he calmed down at least, Chin said, "Okay, I'll go fetch our fearless leader. I think we're done here anyway." Kono nodded in confirmation.

"Thanks, Steve owes you one." said Danny as he ended the call.

"What's going on cuz?" asked Kono, "Why do we have to go get Steve?"

"Sounds like our haole must have gone ballistic and Steve got stranded in the parking lot."

"Wait! Steve just got patched up. He shouldn't have to deal with hoofing it home. That's messed up cuz."

"Well, this one must have been serious for Danny to take off like that. I don't know what it was about but I'm sure he had his reasons. I also think our haole is wound pretty tight right now. Trying to find out what happened while trying to keep Steve from finding out there's even something to investigate; that's gotta be weighing pretty heavily."

"We all know Steve's still walking a thin line, he's nowhere near beginning to cope with Cath's death. At least not in a way that's healthy." said Kono sadly

Chin shook his head as he contemplated all the issues that could cause a dispute so serious that Danny had abandoned Steve in a hospital parking lot. "Come on we gotta go find the boss."

…

The bare-headed man didn't seem to notice the heat of the sun blazing down from a cloudless afternoon sky as he strode mechanically along the baking concrete. He looked like he had something on his mind.

_Maybe I haven't been as careful as I should be. Why was that the first word that came to my mind? Maybe I could pay more attention to things but is Danny right? Am I cowardly? Is what he said true that I don't have the guts to kill myself so why not let someone else do it for me? How could he even say that?_

He was only vaguely aware of the cell phone in his pocket that had rung every few minutes since he'd left the hospital but he didn't know what time that was or how many calls he'd ignored.

He didn't know or care where he was at the moment or how much farther he had to walk. His head was swimming with a thousand and one thoughts as his feet propelled him in the general direction of home and the sharpness of his vision seemed to waver and pulse along with the each beat of his heart. His head was beginning to ache fiercely.

_Cath is dead and the guy I thought was my best friend hates me and thinks I'm a coward . . . Cath is dead and maybe I should just leave the islands and go back to the Navy full-time. Cath is dead and nothing good has happened since I agreed to stay here and take the job at Five-0. Cath is dead and I don't belong here anymore than I've ever belonged anywhere else. My Catherine is dead._

He didn't notice the dark SUV that pulled up next to him and followed along the curb.

….

Danny drove aimlessly for over an hour. He wasn't ready yet to go back to H.Q. He felt bad for giving Steve that ultimatum but he'd reached the end of his rope with his Neanderthal friend. He had to make Steve realize his actions were possibly more than just what fate dictated.

He'd meant it when he said it but in retrospect and with several deep breaths and a drive-thru chocolate shake to settle his churning stomach . . . maybe he should give it another go. He was sure about what he told Chin though. Steve needed someone to point out to him what he'd been doing – possibly without even being aware of it mind you, but it was going to get him killed.

Detective Daniel Williams wasn't ready to bury another partner; one that had become a brother closer than that of his own flesh and blood. One who was worth more than he could ever realize to those who loved and cared about him. One who needed to go on despite the loss that had him teetering on the edge of a decision; the one that meant life or death.

"Damned idiot, psychotic, Neanderthal animal!" muttered the detective under his breath as he spun the wheel of the Camaro and aimed it toward H.Q.

…..

The SUV continued to follow for nearly a block before its driver honked the horn.

Startled, Steve looked up to see Chin behind the wheel and Kono rolling down the passenger side window to ask with a tentative smile, "Hey sailor, need a ride?"

With a blank look replaced with one of recognition and a brief stiff smile; he hesitated only briefly before walking up to the idling vehicle and opening the door. Suddenly, he was too fucking tired to walk any further. His head ached, his arm ached and the concrete surface beneath him felt like a griddle through the soles of his boots.

He settled into the rear seat and belted himself in then leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes as the cool air dried the sweat that trickled down the back of his neck. He was just so fucking tired.

Kono glanced over the back of her seat to make sure he was okay. Steve looked flushed and exhausted. His forearm had several red blotches showing through the pristine gauze wrapping. He cradled the limb on his chest as he settled back with a tired sigh. She wanted to say something but kept herself from doing so.

The ride back to H.Q. was totally silent.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**That 'talk' will be coming up in the next chapter though it probably won't go as well as any of us hope. I know this is moving a bit slower than probably anticipated but the next chapter should be quite a bit more 'lively'.**

**Your thoughts on this chapter would be much appreciated.**


	7. Out There

Chapter 7

**Here's the next. Sorry I missed the Sunday deadline but I hope you like 'the talk'. Please let me know what you think of it. To all those who commented, followed and favorited; as I've stated before, I don't take any of that for granted and really appreciate it and enjoy hearing from you.**

**Note: Mention of the 'other side' of an incident in an earlier story was thrown into this chapter. Had to lighten up a bit. I was depressing myself.**

**Disclaimer: Only in dreams do I get paid for this. Reality just sucks.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Out There

Two of HPD's best detectives had been sworn to secrecy. Duke Lukela had arranged for them to quietly investigate a death that had already been declared an accident. There'd been special consideration because, though not officially, the victim had been connected to the law enforcement community.

The two were happy to help. McGarrett, whether you liked him or not, was the driving force behind the crew that would do whatever it took to keep the island's inhabitants, cops included, safe from evildoers and they respected him – in spades.

Some considered him the smartest, toughest cop on the island. Some considered him the most reckless and arrogant cop on the island. The two opinions weren't mutually exclusive but all recognized him as fearless, frighteningly focused and totally badass.

Detectives Pahia and Tetrov had wasted no time going back through every possible lead until they'd run across a report from a guy who'd contacted HPD several weeks ago. Well, actually, the guy's aunt had contacted them.

At the time, she'd been considered just another of the 'out there' callers they'd get from time to time. The woman is an ardent conspiracy theorist and it wasn't her first contact with HPD. The report hadn't gone anywhere because whoever it was handed to had considered its source and 'filed' it.

Mrs. Hani Hulama had reported that her nephew had told her of taking a call from someone who wanted to buy a compressed-gas cylinder. The odd thing was that its potential purchaser didn't care what was _in_ the cylinder; it just had to be heavy. Just that morning she'd read the online account of the accident that had killed Catherine Rollins and couldn't get it out of her head. She felt there had to be some connection.

Feeling there may be a faint chance of relevancy, they contacted her for an interview. Upon arrival at her home, they found her seated on her lanai with her Yorkie in her lap. They questioned her as she fed it treats and cooed at the little dog as though it was a baby. The 'baby' bared its teeth at the two detectives as Mrs. Hulama explained to them that Amoka, her sister's kid, was nice but not the most ambitious nor intelligent of her relatives. Anyway, in her opinion, he smoked way too much pakalolo.

Confirming the details of her phone conversation with HPD, she excitedly gave them her nephew's number. They thanked her for her time as the little dog growled at them and she shushed it with more baby talk until they were out of sight.

"Why the hell do people even keep those little rats?" asked John Tetrov of his partner as they walked back to where they'd parked.

"You'd think she'd birthed the little bastard herself." snorted Manny Pahia as they climbed into their sedan and cranked up the air conditioning. "That was just weird."

As his partner drove, Tetrov picked up his cell and gave Williams a call.

…..

Even though they'd called him beforehand, the man they'd come to interview looked a bit embarrassed when the two Hawaiian detectives showed up at his workplace, Island Industrial Gasses. Chin and Kono were ushered into a small conference room that seemed to double as a lunch room; evidence being a grease-smeared table and various empty and not so empty food containers and wrappers strewn about. Out of the corner of her eye, Kono saw a roach scurry away to disappear under the grimy baseboard.

As they settled in the mismatched chairs, the pudgy local who looked as greasy as the table and wore what seemed inch-thick eyeglasses and a wrinkled T-shirt asked if they'd like a soda. His nearsighted gaze roved over the Hawaiian woman in a not so subtle way as he said, "You look hot. Maybe a cool drink would be nice?"

Kono quickly declined without even a small smile. Even though the day was a hot one and something cold to drink did sound good; anything served up in this environment, by this guy, even if in a sealed can, was a bit suspect. Kono wondered if the health department ever inspected 'conference' rooms.

Getting right to it, the cousins began the interview. Amoka Russell stated he'd told his aunt to chill; that he'd had weirder calls during his way too many years as a customer service rep not only here but at other places as well. His Auntie Hani had explained her concern and it did sound a bit suspect but the woman was a little 'different' in his words and he pretty much took nothing she said very seriously. "I mean, how serious can you take a woman who practically has a dog attached to her tit twenty-four-seven? It's like that little rodent is her baby. It don't even like me so I never go over there."

The cousins nodded. They'd already gotten word about the dog from Pahia and Tetrov. Apparently the two HPD detectives had the same impression.

At their prompting, Russell continued: "My company sells many different kinds of gasses and related products. A little over a month ago I get a call from a guy who wants to buy some gas. I'm like, okay, that was what I'm here for - to take orders for gas - so what kind you want I ask him. All I get in answer is 'huh?' like he don't know he even called a gas company."

"Go on." prompted Chin as Amoka had apparently paused for effect.

"So then I ask him, what you use if for? An' he say it's none of my business."

"That's a little odd." confirmed Kono wishing she hadn't as Amoka gave her a cheesy smirk.

"I been doing this kind of work for long time. Nothing much bothers me so I stay polite an' tell him that many gasses require special permits to purchase them. The guy then asks which ones _don't_ require special permits. I tell him the most common is oxygen."

"So you're saying he called here to buy a tank of gas and didn't know what kind he wanted?"

"Yeah, the guy some kind lolo. He finally say, 'Look Keanu, I don't give a damn what kind, I just need a heavy tank.' I tell him he could just buy a empty tank if that's what he wants."

The roach from earlier, (at least it looked like the same one), reappeared and seemed to be making a bee-line for Chin's shoe. Kono tapped him and he looked down in disgust thinking, _It's a good thing Steve isn't here, he'd have shot it._

Amoka continued, "The guy sound surprised like he didn' think of that then he put me on hold. After another minute or two the guy comes back to say he need to buy a tank that has something in it and asks if oxygen comes in a big, heavy, cylinder and I tell him it comes in tanks up to three-hundred pounds. He puts me on hold again, then comes back and asks if there's a hundred-pound tank available. I tell him there is and he says thanks, that he'll be in touch and hangs up."

"That's it?"

"Yeah but it's not the weirdest call I've ever gotten."

Apparently feeling comfortable with the Hawaiian detectives, the rep proceeded to tell them the tale of the time he worked for an online gift company and had gotten a panicky call from a guy who needed to cancel his order for ten-thousand boxes of chocolates. They were the kind where each truffle was wrapped individually in foil with racy sayings printed on them. The caller had explained he only wanted one box to be sent to his girlfriend stationed overseas and that his cat had jumped onto the keyboard and sat on the key that had added several zeroes to the order quantity and then when chased off had stepped on the enter key and confirmed the order.

Amoka had cancelled the order saying he would be concerned about a guy who had use for so many boxes of romantic chocolates.

"That could probably be hazardous to a guy's health in more ways than one." laughed the greasy little rep as he leered myopically at Kono.

She was about to roll her eyes in response when that roach decided to make a grand reappearance and ran across the table in front of them. Both detectives quickly stood and thanked Amoka for his information then made for the exit. Kono involuntarily shivered but was sure it wasn't because of the insect.

….

"Steven, I'm so glad to finally talk to you." said Amanda Rollins

"Yes ma'am, it's nice to speak with you also. Sorry I missed your earlier calls Mrs. Rollins."

"Don't worry about it and you know you can call me Mandy, right? There's no reason not to and even though you and Cathy never formalized it, we've always considered you umm, well, her other half."

Though he shouldn't have been, Steve was surprised at the woman's words. He didn't know Cath had talked much to her parents about their relationship. He'd only met them briefly a couple of times during holiday trips. They seemed like nice people.

"Thank you." he answered, not knowing what else to say.

"It's just that we were always so many miles away we never got a chance to get to know you that well. As hard as it was for her father and me to lose her; we know for you it must have been . . . well, we know you loved her as much as she did you."

Clearing his suddenly clogged throat, he replied, "Thank you ma'am, umm, Mandy. Cath loved you both very much. She always talked about you as being the perfect parents. You umm . . . you raised a wonderful daughter." He wanted to say more but this was difficult.

Sensing he'd run out of words, Mandy Rollins picked up the ball, "We were looking forward to getting to know you better. She thought the world of you and loved you with all her heart. Never ever doubt that Steve."

"I didn't doubt it. I never doubted Cath about anything".

He wanted to hang up now. This was getting too intense and he could feel something fluttering within that he had no intention of letting out.

"We'd looked forward to visiting, especially after Cathy told us about the baby. We were so excited then . . . " Amanda Rollins' voice tapered off as though she'd just realized something. Cathy had told her she intended to tell him during dinner on the night she'd been killed. He may not know.

The air seemed to be suddenly thicker and harder to breathe. It clogged his lungs and made his chest ache. _Baby?_ He couldn't get the word out.

There was only silence on the other end of the call. "Steven? Are you there?"

There was still no answer; just the sound of an unsteady exhale. Cath's mother realized Steve had no clue about the pregnancy. _Oh my God_. What had she just done?

"Steven?" she asked again, voice worried and tense.

"I . . . I'm sorry . . . I have to go now." he barely managed to choke out then in an apologetic mumble added, "We have a case."

"Steven?"

…

"Danny? I need to talk to you a minute." announced Steve beckoning Danny into his office and shutting the door behind them.

"Yeah Rambo, what's up?" asked Danny as he tucked his paperwork under his arm and entered Steve's office. His partner's face revealed nothing but the detective could feel claws beginning to dig into his stomach lining as he took the chair to which he'd been pointed.

The tall man, arms crossed, stood before his desk. He took a deep breath before he exhaled and bit out, "What's going on Danny?"

"Huh?" asked the blonde, eyebrows rising

"What's with the stealthy conversations with Duke?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Steve."

Eyes now flat and dark, the SEAL smiled tightly and asked, "Don't you?"

"Why would I be talking to Duke? How about the fact that I talk to my friends sometimes without first getting your permission. You do know that's what normal people do every once-in-awhile."

Steve didn't reply. He continued to stare without blinking and Danny could feel a shiver go down his spine. This could get ugly.

"What's the matter with you? What's with the friggin' third-degree? Do I have to worry that you're going to get out the two-hundred watt spotlight and the rubber hose?"

Ignoring the remark and with teeth tightly clenched Steve reiterated, "Why is Duke calling you about a homicide investigation?"

Figuring offense is better than defense at the moment Danny calmly asked, "What's with the paranoia big guy?"

"Don't give me any bullshit Danny! I know you're hiding something." said Steve, voice now lowered to the threatening, whispery, growl so effective when interrogating suspects.

"What the fuck are you talking about? You really gotta get this . . . thing . . . under control man. It's not helping."

"Don't try to make me out to be a paranoid freak godammit! I know you're hiding something!" said Steve, voice now rising from the low growl to a louder and possibly more threatening one.

Danny, uneasy at his partner's growing level of intensity, was beginning to feel trapped in the glass walled space. "Steven," he began placatingly, "Let's take this down a notch and we'll go get a beer and talk, huh?"

"I'm not fucking stupid! WHAT ARE YOU HIDING GODDAMMIT!" Steve slammed his hand down on his desktop hard enough to knock the heavy marble and bronze clock/pen holder off its edge with a loud crash but didn't even seem to notice.

Even though every cell in his body was screaming a warning, Danny calmly sat contemplating his partner whose normally icy composure was now a thing of the past. Steve stood before him eyes flashing and neck veins standing out like the roots of a banyan tree.

The two stared intensely at one another in silence for several more moments; the expression on one that of intense anger; the expression on the other that of cautious but calm evaluation.

Chin and Kono, alerted by the noise, stood by the smart table and stared in their direction; looking poised to break up what may turn into a physical confrontation during which someone is sure to be injured.

After more than a minute of a tense, wordless, staredown, Danny broke the contretemps. He exhaled the breath he'd been holding and quietly said, "Okay Steve. I'll tell you what I found out if you'll promise me something."

"I'm not playing any of your stupid fucking games Danny!" declared the tall man, eyes flashing, breathing as though he'd just run a 10-K.

Danny sat quietly staring back at his scarily angry friend; waiting for a calmer and slightly more muted response.

Finally Steve, with eyes narrowed, growled out, "What is it that you want?"

"I'll give you the information if you promise to let HPD continue their investigation without your interference or . . . ", Danny held up his hand to stop the predictable outburst, as Steve stood with fists bunched, ". . . or you running off with pockets full of lethal ordnance on a friggin' quest for revenge." firmly stated the detective; pale eyes unwaveringly locked on dark ones that glared down at him.

He could see Steve actually trembling with anger and frustration before giving a sharp nod of agreement.

…

They'd met at his house that night. Everything had been laid out; every finding on the case.

Taking the information given by the employee of Island Industrial Gas, Kono had tracked purchases from all three companies on the island that dealt with that type of product and had come across a recent purchase of a hundred-pound tank of oxygen that couldn't be tracked back to a company or individual that would have legitimate need for it.

The charge card used was one of those disposable pre-paid kind that can be purchased with cash from any number of retailers. The name used for the purchase was, of course, fictitious but the card's purchase had been tracked to a drug store in the Los Angeles area. HPD had quietly confirmed the serial number on the tank that had come off the back of the truck and caused Catherine's death was the same number as on one purchased at Trade Winds Industrial Elements. Pahia and Tetrov had interviewed personnel there and had come away with the description of a man who was most likely a local and were now trying to track down who that might be.

The Los Angeles Police Department had been contacted about the card and as soon as they could pin it down a little more solidly, someone from HPD, likely Pahia and Tetrov would be traveling to L.A. to investigate further.

Steve had taken it all in calmly and had asked several pertinent questions. They'd ordered a pizza and eaten a quick dinner as they'd further discussed the details of the investigation. Steve had thanked them for their diligence and for not giving up when Catherine's death had been ruled accidental. Even though he'd not eaten any dinner, which was understandable considering the circumstances, he seemed calm and focused. Maybe, just maybe, they could all get through this in one piece thought Danny.

Not knowing if anyone already knew of it, Steve had never mentioned the pregnancy. He couldn't deal with it right now and more so, couldn't deal with the additional betrayal if anyone on his team did know about it and didn't tell him. He'd have to think about how to handle that when this was over if he was still around to do so. It was time to put all of that stuff to the side. He had work to do.

…..

Everyone had left hours ago - even his partner. He sat staring into darkness that seemed to wrap around him with such a smothering density it allowed no lesser shade to defeat its opacity.

_So that's why she wanted to have dinner that night. She wanted to tell me she was pregnant. She wanted to tell me I was going to be a father._

He couldn't even cry. He couldn't feel anything. He was numb.

He had no idea how long he'd sat there. Looking up from the old wooden chair facing the water, he realized the sky was beginning to lighten. Returning to the house, he picked up his keys.

Arriving in the palace's parking lot just as the sun threatened to peek over the rim of the horizon, he shut off the engine and slid out of the truck to walk up the steps and let himself into the building. No one would be in for at least another hour and a half. Striding quickly across the lobby and taking the stairs two at a time he came to Five-0's floor. He punched in his code then proceeded quickly across the outer office to his own. With a tired sigh he strengthened his resolve and opened his desk drawer to take out a sheet of paper and an envelope. Plucking the pen out of the cracked marble holder on his desk, he scribbled purposefully. Quickly finishing, he folded the single sheet and slipped it into the envelope and sealed it then jotted a name on the outside.

He picked up his keys and wallet, left his cell and badge on the blotter and dropped the envelope on Danny's desk on his way toward the exit. He never looked back.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Was sorry to hear that Michelle Borth is leaving the show. I think her character helped to 'humanize' our SEAL. Hopefully, it will all work out.**

**The story will move to a different setting soon and whump's a comin' in another couple chapters. PLEASE review.**


	8. Clicking and Tumbling

The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 8

**Sorry! I know it's a day late again. Have been shuffling things around. I should ****never**** reread something I'm about to post. Tried to address a couple things FicreaderT busted me for in the last chapter. I hope it worked. Besides thrilling me beyond measure, you wonderful readers help keep this story from disintegrating into chaos. Thank you to all those who commented, favorited and followed.**

**Note: This story is set in a world where Malia is still around. I'll still never understand why they had to kill her off. And, oh yeah, Danny has a potty-mouth but I always suspected as much.**

**Disclaimer: If I got paid for this, the ninja cats would be even fatter because they'd be living on that mouse ranch I'd promised them. I guess I should get them a gym membership as well?**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Clicking and Tumbling

Early Yesterday:

"Danny!" called out Kono as she leaned into his doorway, her tone implying it was something he may not want to deal with, "You need to take this call."

That feeling came out of hiding once again to grip his insides in its dull claws as he set aside the paperwork on which he'd been concentrating and punched the button on the desk phone. "Detective Williams" he answered

"Uhh, hello?" said the female voice, "I was hoping to speak with Commander McGarrett?"

"I'm sorry; the commander is out for the moment is there something I can help you with?"

"You're Danny, right?" asked the female voice

"Yes, that's me." answered the detective, the voice on the other end was familiar but he couldn't put a face to it yet.

"This is Amanda Rollins, Cathy's, umm Catherine's mother."

"Hello Mrs. Rollins. I know we've met but it was such an upsetting time . . ."

Without acknowledging his statement she said, "I umm . . . I don't want to talk out of turn. Actually I think I've already done that . . . but Cathy said you and Steve are good friends, that you're very close?"

"Yes, yes we are." confirmed Danny, "Is there something I can help you with Mrs. Rollins?"

"I think I may have upset Steve. I think I may have told him something he wasn't aware of."

The tumblers in his mind clicked loudly into place. He already knew what she was going to say.

…

He'd completely forgotten about the paperwork he'd shoved into his desk drawer days ago – the official copy of the autopsy report Max had handed to him that he didn't have the heart to read at the time. He knew the pertinent details and had gone over them verbally with his team and the two HPD detectives.

Steve could have easily enough gotten hold of a copy but as far as Danny knew, he hadn't done so. He could understand why. Through their discussions of the case, Steve had remained stoic and focused but there were things that no one spoke of directly. There was really no need to.

He sighed as he opened the folder and read the first sheet. The toxicology report had finally been completed and it held nothing surprising. He knew Cath wasn't a drug user. She was as adamant as Steve about not taking anything stronger than Tylenol.

The irony was that her soul mate had so recently steeped himself in an entirely legal drug and . . . well . . . it was just ironic. He shook off the thought and read further into the report. The official cause of death had been blunt force trauma to the chest which had caused massive damage to heart and lungs. Her death had been mercifully quick. He steeled himself further and glanced quickly at the attached photos then shuffled them to the back of the folder and read on.

Turning the page, he came upon the line that froze him. Even though Mrs. Rollins had already told him, the oxygen seemed to leave the room as he read: 'The deceased was approximately eight weeks pregnant at time of death.' He closed the folder and put his hands over his eyes; pressing them tightly until he saw flashes of light shoot though the darkness behind his lids.

If Cath's death didn't kill Steve, this would.

…...

Late Yesterday:

They'd arrived _separately_ at H.Q.; Danny in the Camaro, Steve having ridden with Kono and Chin. No words were offered in apology and no mention made of what had caused one partner to abandon the other in the parking lot at Queens.

The very fact both were in the same room and hadn't gone for their SIGs nor engaged in hand-to-hand combat seemed to be enough for now. Still, Chin and Kono hovered nearby just in case one or the other of their stubborn ohana decided to take up where they'd earlier left off.

Steve had been totally silent on the ride back and neither he nor Danny acknowledged one another as they'd walked in the door.

Needless to say, it was pretty quiet for the next couple of hours. Finally, Steve, coming to stand in the middle of the main room while still fiddling with the blood spotted bandage on his arm announced, "Let's get out of here and meet at my house. We have things to discuss and being that we aren't on the State's payroll for this one, let's discuss it where we can at least drink a beer or two while we're at it."

Not really sure it was a good idea to adjourn to a place where the setting might allow for more 'engaged' conversation, the cousins looked toward one another then hesitantly nodded while Danny gave Steve another evaluating look before answering, "Yeah, okay. A beer sounds good. Just make sure you leave the brass knuckles here 'kay?"

Chin and Kono nearly winced but Steve gave a tight smile before replying, "Yeah, got it. A knuckle free zone – at least for tonight."

After they'd shut down the office for the evening both Chin and Kono had offered Steve a ride to his house. They were gathered by the smart table, about to decide who would be their leader's chauffer, when Danny came out of his office and stopped to shake his head at the three already standing there. With a soft snort he tossed his keys toward Steve saying, "Just don't take out any lingering hostility out on my car alright?"

Steve rolled his eyes as they all trooped out the door toward their cars for the trip to the McGarrett house; Steve and Danny sharing the same vehicle, Chin and Kono following closely behind – just in case.

…

The balance of the evening had gone smoothly enough. Though the cousins felt they should apologize for being part of the 'conspiracy', Danny had pulled them aside and told them to leave it for now. He'd talk to Steve over the next couple of days and make sure he knew how they felt and that it was he, himself, who'd talked them into it.

Over pizza, they'd discussed their options on how to continue the investigation. Steve brought up some pertinent points and was calm and focused but looked exhausted. Though he and Danny seemed to have grudgingly made up for now, the partners still seemed a bit cautious around one another. There'd been loud disagreements in the past and everyone knew eventually it would get better. This one however had pretty much been the harshest so far.

They agreed that keeping Tetrov and Pahia on was a good idea. The two were good investigators and there was still need to convince Denning and HPD they could handle the case without 'going off the reservation'.

Breaking it up a little after midnight, they'd left a subdued Steve sitting on the lanai as they let themselves out.

…

This morning:

As he stood under the stream of a hot, longer than three-minute shower, Danny rubbed at the knot that had formed at the back of his neck. The meeting last night had taken a lot out of him - the argument in the parking lot even more so. He was glad that he and Steve had come to a truce if not an actual understanding.

He didn't know if he was looking forward to arriving at the office or not. Taking his usual fifteen minutes to blow-dry his hair and style it just so, he finally decided he was actually looking forward to seeing his partner. The storm would pass. They always do.

…

He shot up from his chair, crumpled the sheet of paper in his hand and threw it with all his might. If it had been anything other than a wadded up ball of paper the window it bounced off of would have shattered at the impact.

"GODDAMMIT!" Chin heard from the other side of the office. It was Danny's voice . . . and it was pissed. The Hawaiian detective hurried from the breakroom where he'd gone to get his morning coffee.

Williams stormed to the outer office and standing in the middle of it bellowed, "Has anyone heard from Steve?!"

"I haven't heard a word from the boss this morning. I assumed he would be in any minute." said Chin as he cautiously came to stand by the smart table.

Kono quickly appeared from her office doorway, a malasada clutched between her fingers, her morning treat interrupted by the noise. "No Danny. Why? What's wrong?" she asked eyes wide and worried at the obvious agitation of Five-0's second in command.

"Should we be concerned?" asked Chin as he glanced toward his cousin.

"Concerned? Hell yes we should be concerned!" was the more than agitated answer as in typical Danny-fashion, hands flew in emphasis.

"What's going on Danny?" asked Kono staring at him intently.

"He did it again! That's what's going on!"

"What did Steve do?" asked Chin, making the logical leap and hoping Danny would simmer down a bit and explain with less animation . . . and volume.

"The fucker threw a fucking 'Dear Danny' note on my fucking desk and left for fucking parts unknown . . . fucking again!"

Besides being distressed at the news, both cousins were amazed at the sheer number of uses of the 'F' word their Jersey boy managed to work into just the one sentence.

"What did the note say?" asked Chin, his gut tightening at the thought their leader would once again disappear for months without anyone knowing where he'd gone or when he was returning or even if he was still alive.

Danny first glared at Chin then Kono and then wordlessly stalked back to his office to retrieve the crumpled missive from the floor behind his desk. He returned to the cousins to smooth it out on the smart table in front of them before theatrically reciting its brief contents.

"Dear Danno," he began then muttered _motherfucker_ under his breath before continuing, "Have something to do. Sorry for leaving on such short notice. Don't bother to look for me. I'll tell you all about it when I get back. You're in charge till then. Steven."

"Fuck!" said both cousins simultaneously.

…

"Chin, do you know if Steve ever got hold of the autopsy report on Cath?"

"No Danny. He never discussed it. The C.O.D. was obvious and we'd never discussed any details even though if it had been someone else who'd been killed we would have."

"Kono?"

"Nope. I thought it was something he probably didn't want to deal with other than superficially. It would've been too painful. I only discussed it with you guys and never read it myself. I know I should have but I . . . I'm sorry, I know I wasn't being professional . . . "

Danny simply waved off whatever else she may have wanted to say. He understood too well.

"Well," he sighed, "Mrs. Rollins told me she may have said something that set him off." he disclosed.

"What could she have said that would've done that?" asked Chin; his normally smooth brow crinkling in puzzlement.

"She . . . umm . . . told him that Cath was pregnant." sighed Danny, hanging his head to look downward at the granite tiles underfoot.

Hand going to her mouth, tears immediately beginning to shine, Kono exclaimed, "Oh God!"

"Danny, had you already known about this?" asked Chin, calm despite the devastating news.

Taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out through his nose, the compact man answered, "Yesterday morning, after her call, I finally read the report from Max. He'd given it to me days ago but I shoved it into a drawer without reading it. Like Kono said, it wasn't very professional not to read it and I should have been on top of anything we were given but it but I figured we already knew anything pertinent. I'd verbally gone over information with Pahia and Tetrov but never read it myself."

"So, now Steve knows about the pregnancy." said Chin sadly shaking his head from side to side. This was going to be tougher than anything they'd ever dealt with. He couldn't imagine how he'd feel if anything ever happened to Malia.

"Danny, it couldn't be hidden forever. Eventually Steve would've found out." said Kono, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand; trying to get control.

"Yeah, Danny. It would have had to be revealed before any charges could be brought against the killer . . . when we catch him." said Chin, Kono nodding in agreement, eyes still bright with tears she wouldn't let fall.

"I know." said Danny. He'd hoped Steve would be in a better place by the time of any arrest and subsequent trial. It looks like that wasn't to be and, if Steve is up to what he thinks he's up to, arrest may never be a necessity. He has no absolutely no doubt his deadly partner knows how to hide a body.

"Okay, now that he knows, what do you think he's going do?" asked Kono worriedly.

His response being only a pointed look, Danny was already picking up the phone.

…..

The plane touched down at LAX with a thud and a squeal as the massive tires gripped the tarmac. It was a relatively smooth landing despite the thundering rainstorm.

The pilot's voice several minutes ago had given them the local time and weather conditions advising her passengers there was need for protective raingear in 'sunny California'.

After plucking his carry-on out of the overhead rack and deplaning, he trudged down the jetway to the arrival gate. Quickly orienting himself to the confusing layout of LAX he immediately found the auto rental area where a lovely young raven-haired woman waited behind the counter at the one he'd made the reservation with before leaving Honolulu. After listening to his request, she smiled brightly and asked for his identification and credit card information to verify the arrangement. Pulling out the I.D. he'd chosen for this op and the charge card that matched it, he received the keys to the vehicle slotted for the use of one Owen Thomas Shealy.

The shuttle dropped him off at the rental lot and he splashed through the puddles to the dark blue four-wheel-drive Toyota. The inclement weather didn't bother him. God knows he's used to rain but the water currently splatting down the back of his neck was icy cold.

California is a weird place. It could be a hundred degrees in the middle of the day then drop into the forties when the sun went down. It could look like it was going to snow when one got up in the morning, then the sun would burn off the overcast and you'd be sweating through your clothes by ten A.M. . . . and the rain was fucking cold! He pulled up the collar of his light jacket.

Throwing the duffel into the back seat, he slid in and buckled up. His first stop was at the home of an old friend. It was already almost four P.M. and traffic would be a bitch so it would take a while to get there. Pulling out of the busy lot with the roar of jetliners in his ears despite the sound dampening qualities of the vehicle, he steered along Sepulveda Boulevard toward the freeway. He knew he'd have to drive carefully. Californians were notoriously bad drivers on rain-slicked roads.

He'd be here for as long as it takes and, when he arrives at his final destination, there will be blood.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Okay, so now we have Steve on the mainland and you know Danny won't be far behind. Lots more coming up. I hope you continue to read and comment. My writing method is pretty much not to have one. All is usually chaos so let me know if there's something I missed . . . oh, and reviews would be lovely . . . so, so, lovely.**


	9. Decisions

The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 9

**Here we are again. Sorry if that last chapter was confusing. It confused me too and I wrote the damned thing! I guess it should have come with a synopsis or at the very least a set of instructions and couple aspirin? Hopefully, this update is a bit less murky. Thanks so much for your continuing encouragement.**

**Gave Imaginary Beta a Red Bull beforehand so maybe she did a better job on this one.**

**Disclaimer: If I got paid for this, I'd hire a private jet and take us all to Hawaii where we, en mass, could do some serious stalking. Anyway, it's probably better to have like-minded company when in lockup.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Decisions

"I didn' have nuthing to do wit it brah!"

"Bullshit Virgil! And I'm not your brah." growled Detective Tetrov in reply to the suspect's less than eloquent defense. "We know you bought that tank that killed a woman a month and a half ago."

Pahia joined in, leaning closer to whisper threateningly, "You, my mangy little friend, are up to your okole in this and you and we know it, so give it up."

Danny, Chin and Kono watched the interrogation through the one-way glass. They still weren't officially back on the case and needed to convince Governor Denning they should be. Until then, Pahia and Tetrov would be handling the questioning.

Actually, Danny doubted he could keep himself from strangling the little weasel currently in custody. He doubted any of them could keep from doing so. It was actually a good thing that Steve wasn't here.

If the SEAL was directing the questioning, Virgil Kahue would be hanging off the edge of a roof somewhere by his gonads.

"Honess, I didn' know! The Haole only said he wanted to do some kind welding or something." protested their detainee; beginning to sound desperate, his voice rising along with his stress level.

"So, you didn't think it was odd he didn't tell you what kind of gas he wanted to use for this 'welding'? demanded Tetrov

"I don' know how that shit works! I ain't no welder!" squeaked Kahue

After watching the questioning and continuing lame denials for several more minutes, Chin turned toward Danny to ask, "So, you think Steve is still on the island?"

"Nope, not sure of anything. He has so many contacts from his days in Naval Intelligence to help him with his disappearing act he could be anywhere right now." said the haole detective, "But I know that when I find him, after ripping him a new one, I'm gonna chain that fucker to his desk!"

Ignoring Danny's only half-hearted threat, Chin said, "I think McGarrett wouldn't bother with the local stuff and probably went after that lead on the charge card used in L.A." Since finding out yesterday morning that Steve had, once again, left for parts unknown after leaving a note for his second-in-command, (this time with the ominous addition of his badge), he'd been racking his brain for the most likely path their leader would take.

"You're probably right. I think a trip to California is in our future my friend. We've gotta find him before he does something really stupid . . . I mean even more stupid than that last time."

"Last time, he brought back his prisoner alive. You think that's really his plan this time?" asked the stoic Hawaiian.

Danny had no answer. Maybe voicing what he thought Steve was planning would somehow make it come to be. He only knew they had to find him and quickly.

…

The 105 Freeway out of the airport area had been relatively easy to navigate but, as predicted, the 710 northward was jammed. Someone who had no idea how to drive in the rain had skid into the back of a semi resulting in several more vehicles hydroplaning into the pile of suddenly conjoined metal. The east-bound lanes were now entirely blocked and he was still several exits away from the one he wanted. The road ahead, its curve delineated by a glowing rosary of taillights for at least another mile, was further ornamented with the multi-colored reflections of flares and blinking emergency lights.

Hopefully, any injuries were minor. It would be at least another hour until all casualties had been placed into ambulances and the wreckage had been hauled off to the impound yard. McGarrett knew if the coroner's van was one of those in the line of vehicles flashing by in the emergency access lane it would be hours beyond that before traffic would be allowed to pass.

Swearing, he took the next available off-ramp and found himself in the middle of the worst part of East Los Angeles. He wondered why Robert chose to stay in this neighborhood when he could have moved pretty much anywhere else now that he'd retired from the force.

He drove through a neighborhood mostly made up of older wood-sided homes; the majority of them built in the nineteen-twenties or thirties. In the daylight, he knew it was a quiet enough place to live. Some of the homes were well-maintained with flower bordered yards and freshly painted fences while others were obviously neglected. The normal bustle of suburban life flowed smoothly as people shopped at the small neighborhood markets, or tiendas as they were called, and their children played in the streets and yards while neighbors kept watch on each other's kids.

At night, it was a different story.

…

Finally, pulling to the curb before a well-kept craftsman style home, he exited the SUV and locked it before striding up the walkway to the stone fronted porch. He rang the bell and waited as the fluorescent bulb in the fixture hanging above him flickered on and the heavy oak door swung open.

"Hey Steve! Good to see you again!" greeted the tall, olive-skinned man who smiled at him as he gestured toward his living room.

McGarrett smiled in return and taking a step inside was quickly enveloped in a strong hug from the older man who'd welcomed him.

"Hey Bobby. Sorry to show up on such short notice." apologized McGarrett as he returned the hug as well.

"No worries. Come on in and have a cerveza. Eleanor's staying at her mom's for the next couple days, the old lady's got some sort of respiratory crud and she's helping her out until she gets over it. 'Course it might help if the old bat laid-off the Marlboros but I guess, since she's reached eighty-five, it's too late now. Anyway, we have the place to ourselves for the time-being. We can scratch and belch all we want and talk about old times and new."

"I'm afraid the new times aren't all that great Bobby." said McGarrett as with his hands he brushed the water out of his hair and settled into a chair at the large wooden table in the kitchen. USN Retired Lieutenant Commander Robert Ruiz handed his former teammate a dark green bottle of Heineken which Steve gratefully took and tilted to his lips to take a long swig.

Setting it down, he said, "Thanks man but shouldn't we be drinking a Dos Equis or maybe a Corona?" he smiled.

"If that were true, I'd have to serve you a Guinness or maybe some of that swill you Hawaiians call beer; Longboard isn't it?" laughed his host.

McGarrett chuckled in return as the two men who'd served together many years ago settled in silence for a few moments while readying for the conversation each would much rather avoid but was the reason behind this unplanned reunion.

…..

The rain pelted down on the sidewalk outside the big windows as the five detectives sat in the big booth at the back of the diner. The precipitation hadn't let up since the day Steve had disappeared and Kono for one was beginning to think it was an ominous sign and wouldn't stop until he returned.

"So you think McGarrett went off to L.A. to track down that lead on the charge card?" asked Tetrov as he took a sip from the steaming mug the waitress had set on the Formica only a moment earlier.

"I think that's where he most likely is yeah." answered Danny as he slowly stirred yet another packet of sugar into his cup. It was another of the things he missed the Neanderthal ragging him about; that he didn't drink coffee but coffee-flavored syrup. He did like his coffee on the sweet side.

"Should we even stop him? I mean the guy is more than sharp and knowing what you say is true, he has the connections to find what he needs." observed Manny Pahia frowning at the blonde man on the other side of the table who had now added at least four packets of sugar to his cup.

"Look, I know you guys are on our side or Duke wouldn't even have gotten you involved in this but all I'm going to say is that we need to catch up to him before _he_ catches up with whoever we're looking for."

The others sitting around the table nodded silently in understanding. They understood what Williams was saying. Plausible deniability was going to be a difficult line to walk if Five-0's leader took the dark road. Each wanted to wish McGarrett luck in his search for the killer of his woman but his ohana was at least was as much concerned for McGarrett's mental well-being as for his keeping out of trouble with the law.

"You have names of anyone he would be contacting?" asked Tetrov as he added the faintest splash of cream to his cup.

"I've called a couple of people here who may know. I'm waiting for one of them to call back. I trust they care about what happens as much as his ohana does and will give me a name."

"Well, Virgil Kahue gave us enough that we have the identities of others involved and can probably prove the truck driver was in on it. That bastard is in for a long stretch in Halava. Maybe you can tell McGarrett that when you catch up to him. It's gotta make him feel a bit better about the investigation at least. I know that nothing can make him feel better about what happened, especially since finding out about her pregnancy." stated Tetrov.

It was actually the first time anyone had brought it up. There'd been no need to do so earlier but now that there would be charges made against the accomplices, it was time to name it.

Pahia said, "How anyone can get over something like that, I don't know. I do know I wouldn't care what happened to me until I caught the bastard behind it and then . . . ", he shook his head from side to side as his lips compressed.

Once again, all nodded in understanding. Steve's ohana hoped they could catch up to their leader before the unvoiced thought about the ending to his search could become reality.

….

"So, what did you find out?" asked Steve as Ruiz placed an after dinner cup of coffee in front of his former teammate. They'd just eaten the casserole Eleanor Ruiz had prepared in advance for her husband before she'd driven off to Riverside to take care of her sick mother. Steve noted the freezer appeared to be nearly full of the plastic containers of prepared meals. A sudden pang assaulted him as he thought of Cath teasing him about MRE's and how she couldn't believe he'd pass-up her mother's ragout for beef stew in a pouch. After that she'd stashed several containers of stuff in his freezer that her mom had made for her during her visit two months earlier when she'd stayed with her daughter at her place.

Breaking him from his reverie, Ruiz said, "The card was purchased at a drug store in Arcadia. It's a few miles from here and I can take you there in the morning if you like."

"Bobby, you know I can't involve you in any of this. I mean, you're taking a chance even getting me this information. I don't want them tracking anything back to you."

"If you're going to make it necessary that my assistance is kept under the radar then I'm going to assume you're not planning on just arresting this guy?" asked Ruiz observing his former teammate as he stirred several spoonsful of sugar into his coffee. It didn't escape Steve's notice that it was the same thing Danny would have done.

The two men silently regarded each other over the wooden surface between them. Neither looked away and both knew there was no need to voice the answer.

Finally, Ruiz sighed and said, "Just be safe Dog. I've attended enough funerals in my lifetime. I don't want to have to go to yours as well. Besides," he said as he took a sip from his cup, "that Hawaiian sun isn't good for my complexion."

…

The sun had just come up and the air was damp; drops of dew hung expectantly off the ends of the pine needles. He stood and stretched as he took in a lungful of the new day's fresh offering. It looks as though the rain had stopped for now. The forecast was for a Santa Ana to come in by late tomorrow. Stupid California weather. First one nearly gets washed away and then the next day the air dries out to blow through the canyons like a torch.

He poured himself a cup from the pot that sat atop the wood-burning stove and took a seat at the small table whose top was covered in scraps of notes and neatly arranged photos. The sun came warmly glowing through the windows and provided enough light see them all clearly. It was time to decide who would be next. He picked up the photograph and looked at it carefully, taking in the smooth skin and long dark hair. It's really difficult to kill such beautiful things.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Next update by Thursday or sooner if possible. Reviews would be most appreciated.**


	10. Before Dawn

The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 10

**Here it is. Let me know if this chapter works for you. I'm not great at plots. It's always a struggle to get them to work so I hope it's all plausible. Also don't know much about electronic surveillance but I'm good at pretending I do.**

**Disclaimer: Still don't make any money from this. Still waiting for Mr. Lenkov to send me that plane ticket so that I can come write for the show. Have to go now; the meds are starting to wear off.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Before Dawn

He'd risen early and left before the first hint of light in the pre-dawn sky. He left thinking he'd gotten out of the house without waking his host but Bobby Ruiz listened in the darkness as his old teammate moved stealthily about, preparing to leave on his mission.

The tall quiet SEAL was always the best of the best, a force of nature, his country's ultimate warrior: intelligent, focused and tough as they come. Ruiz would even throw-in clean, reverent, brave and thrifty as well; the guy was a fucking boy scout – a lethal one. He actually smiled in the darkness when thinking about the 'thrifty' part. His old teammate must owe nearly everyone in their former unit a steak dinner by now. He just hoped they'd have someone to collect from after this.

Yet despite those qualities possessed in abundance; the ones required to successfully complete the many harrowing missions over the years; McGarrett was lacking. Bobby Ruiz had long ago recognized it.

Though he'd witnessed Steve with nary a flinch take down the enemy with the snap of a neck or quick spurt of blood to confirm his success, there was a flaw in the seemingly flawless façade of Lieutenant Commander Steven McGarrett. To everyone else he was still the fierce, implacable, fighting machine but only those who knew him well could see it. That spidery crack lengthened and widened a bit more each time one of his own had been slain. Little bits of that stony surface crumbled and broke away with every man - every time.

Hearing the front door close softly and realizing he'd never be able to get back to sleep; he got up to make a pot of coffee and wait for sunrise. He worried he'd provided the means for his friend to join those lost teammates.

As he waited for the hissing coffeemaker to finish its brewing, he wondered if there'd come a day when nothing would be left. If every ounce of whatever made Steve McGarrett the decent caring man he is would be used up and what remained would be something cold and empty. He'd seen it happen to others. Though they went about the world as warm-blooded, functioning, human beings, their eyes told something else. They were the walking dead.

It may have been what he'd seen in his friend's eyes last night as they'd talked. McGarrett had been so distanced and clinical when describing the death of Lieutenant Rollins - his Cath. Maybe Steve wasn't even in there anymore. Maybe the death of the woman he loved had used up the very last of it. How could it not?

Bobby Ruiz sighed and gazed out the kitchen window as the sun rose, making the normally ugly streets sparkle as though dusted with gold. Things always seemed better in the light; clearer, warmer. He'd pray that light finds his friend.

…..

Today, the mountains looked like the ones on the postcards. The previous day's rain had chased away the smoggy haze that usually obscured them and the sun had gilded the still wet landscape. It was glorious.

Steve McGarrett couldn't care less about the mountains, the sun or the picture perfect California day. Parking the SUV along the curb in front of the small storefront that sported an awning with a large 'Lloyd's Pharmacy' and the standard 'RX' emblazoned on it, he exited the vehicle again making sure it was locked and strode across the walkway to push open the glass door. Luckily, this wasn't one of those mega drugstores that sold everything from prescriptions to patio furniture. It had somehow survived the larger corporations that had pretty much gobbled up all of what one had once thought of as the neighborhood drugstore.

Still, medicinal remedies were apparently only a part of what the compact store offered. He walked past displays of tacky knick-knacks and shelves full of colorful sundries on his way to the counter. There on a small display rack next to the register hung various kinds of prepaid charge cards available for purchase.

….

"Yeah, that's for sure." said Danny Williams to the person on the other end of the call. "Of course, I know that. I assure you I wouldn't even have called if I thought he could get out of this in one piece without help." Five-0's de-facto leader stood in his office with his phone clamped to his ear as he used his other hand to orchestrate his side of the conversation.

Kono watched from where she worked at the smart table; pulling up and organizing information on the individuals who'd been involved in Catherine's murder. Most were now in custody. HPD had re-opened the case based on the findings of Five-0's unofficial investigation and the information gathered by their own two detectives.

Still, those they'd managed to capture so far were only low-level hustlers who thought they'd be making good money for very little work. Their leader was still elusive; his actual identity unknown. The description furnished by his underlings depicted a haole in his thirties with close-cropped, light colored, hair.

The operation had been carefully and minutely organized. The sequence of events they'd pieced together told that someone had been assigned to tail Steve to make sure Cath wasn't with him that night. That guy had notified their boss, the nameless haole, when Steve had arrived at the restaurant.

Another guy had been assigned to tail Cath from Pearl. He'd called his employer to report her position as he trailed her along the highway. The boss had then notified the truck driver to tell him where to position himself. It had been perfect in its planning, timing and execution. Danny was the one who made the observation it was military in its precision.

There was still a piece missing. How did the killer know that Cath was going to dinner that night with Steve?

It hadn't been that difficult to come up with supporting forensic evidence now that they knew what to look for. The truck off which the tank had 'fallen' had been re-examined. There were suspicious looking grooves and small holes drilled into the wood of the stake-sided vehicle; looking as though a wire had been run through the window behind the cab to the hasp on the gate at the back where there were scratches on the metal as well. There was also evidence of scorching on the bottom of the tank and the corresponding location where it had set on the truck's bed which would indicate there'd been some element to propel the tank out of the truck. That mechanism was yet to be found.

Everyone was onboard now. Every resource of HPD from Charlie Fong and the Medical Examiner's office to additional uniforms were working overtime to round up those responsible. Anyone who commented on the case said pretty much the same thing: 'I hope McGarrett gets his hands on the bastard!'

Kono looked up questioningly as Danny walked out his office door and came to stand next to her while still conversing on his cell.

"Thanks man. Steve will never know how I got this information, I promise. Just know that you've probably saved him from spending the rest of his life in prison. I'll let you know what happens."

With that Danny pulled the phone away and touched the end button as he blew out a breath and set his phone down on the corner of the table. Running his hands along the sides of his hair, he looked pointedly at Kono then turned to yell toward Chin's office for the detective to join them. They had to talk about going to Los Angeles.

…..

Five-0's second-in-command had come up with all sorts of scenarios to explain Steve's absence from the island and a plausible reason for himself to be absent as well before finally deciding Denning was too smart to fall for the bullshit no matter how carefully constructed.

He'd also decided that if Denning wouldn't go along with it, he'd just have to resign effective immediately and suffer the consequences. He might be able to go back to HPD when he returned but he wouldn't count on it if Sam Denning held a grudge. Anyway, whatever it took, he had to go after his friend to keep him from doing something stupid if he caught up with the killer – and he had no doubt the SEAL _would_ catch up with the guy.

After listening to the explanation as to why his taskforce leader was missing and why his second-in-command was going after him come hell or high water; after a long pause, the governor acquiesced. Five-0's detective could take a leave of absence. McGarrett's lack of presence would be handled in a different way if and when he returned.

Though that last bit sounded ominous, Danny agreed; relieved he would have a job to return to. Denning would not however, allow either of the other two members of Five-0 to leave their posts.

Detective Williams would have to go after McGarrett alone.

…..

"You've got to be kidding me!" snorted the kid behind the counter. "You know how many of those cards we sell?"

He'd asked the first question in his investigation and could tell by the answer it was going to take a bit of finessing to track down the purchaser. It didn't matter; he had all the time in the world now. He didn't have to be anywhere but here.

He looked down as though not wanting to spill the reason behind his questions before raising his eyes to look the kid in the face. "I know this is gonna sound lame but I umm really need to find the guy who bought the card."

"I told you, we sell hundreds of those things to the idiots who've screwed up their credit and can't get real charge cards. This ain't Bev Hills man."

"Look", said Steve putting on a combination pleading/embarrassed expression, "That damned card was used to buy my wife some roses . . . that weren't from me. Get it?"

The kid's face took on a knowing look. He wasn't quite as dense as he'd first appeared so Steve embellished the story a bit more.

"I already checked with the florist and they wouldn't tell me shit about who bought them. They were red roses. You know what that means right?"

This time the kid looked a bit unsure as to what the actual color of the roses would have to do with anything but covered his lack of certainty with a knowing nod.

"So, how do you know he bought it here?" asked the boy.

"I umm, have a friend in LAPD who tracked it for me. You know, favor for a fellow cop."

Now the kid whose name tag read 'Jason' looked a bit nervous. He'd heard about how jealous cop husbands would sometimes handle cheating wives. It was on the news way too frequently.

With a hesitant smile showing a row of shiny metal bonded to his teeth he said, "I kinda thought you looked like the law. So, how come you just didn't flash your badge when you came in to get me to cooperate?"

"Well, I'm not from the area I don't have any authority here. Come on man." pleaded Steve in a near whine, "A good lookin' guy like you must have a girlfriend. What would you do if you found out she was gettin' something on the side? Wouldn't you want to find out who it was and kick his ass?"

The boy gave him a grave look then firmly stated, "Yvette would never do that but I know what you mean. I also know I wouldn't go out and shoot anybody."

"I'm not gonna shoot the bastard, honest. I just wanna tell him to knock off getting cozy with my wife or I _will_ shoot him. I'm not gonna go to jail just because someone couldn't keep it in their pants. I'm just gonna give him a warning, that's all."

Jason looked doubtfully back at him but not without what appeared to be a small bit of sympathy.

"It's not the first time she's done this. We've been married for ten years." he added to assure the kid that whatever had happened in the past, the woman was still around.

Now that he knew he wasn't bound by law to give out any information and could possibly be getting himself involved in something illegal to say the least, the boy opened his mouth with what Steve was sure was going to be 'No way'.

Steve could kick himself for going in the direction he chose for his story. He really didn't want to have to threaten the kid. He gave it one last try before resorting to stronger means of persuasion. "Look man, I'm glad you've got the kind of woman who wouldn't cheat but mine is . . . shall we say, not quite so committed. Just let me look at your surveillance footage from last month, the fourteenth. That's the day he bought the card."

"I uhh . . . I don't know man. I don't want to get into trouble. Mr. Lloyd, the guy that owns the store will fire me if he finds out."

Steve reached into his jeans and pulled out a couple of twenties and laid them on the counter. The boy was probably only getting minimum wage for putting up with idiot customers like him and a few extra bucks in his pockets would be tempting.

"Mr. Lloyd doesn't have to know about this. Look, for another twenty . . . ", he laid down another bill. "You can get Yvette something nice. Sort of cement the bond . . . you know?" he gave a cheesy wink.

The deal was struck. The kid, looking around to make sure there were no other customers in the store at this early hour disappeared through a door behind him for a moment. Within five-minutes he came back and handed him a flash drive.

"You're just lucky we've gone digital. There's a whole week on it so you'll have to look at a whole lotta people buying lottery tickets and potato chips but it's pretty good quality as far as the images go. You'll be able to see who bought what. You gotta promise you won't tell anyone who you got it from."

"You have my word. Anyway, I never even asked your name and I never gave you mine." winked Steve. He'd noticed the kid had removed his name badge before he'd returned to the register with the drive. Jason wasn't all that bright but he gave it a good try.

Thanking him, he went back out to his SUV. He'd have to find somewhere to view it. He hoped there'd be a face he recognized behind this. Whoever it may be; he was as good as dead.

…..

There was only the one file on the flash drive and he sat back on the motel bed with a Dos Equis - his dinner – to watch the stream of customers make their purchases at the drug store's counter. According to the information given him by Bobby Ruiz, a recent retiree from LAPD, there'd also been a pack of cigarettes, (Carlton's), a Snicker's bar and a large bottle of mouthwash on the same receipt along with the card. So far, he'd looked at several hours of video and though there'd been several cards go across the counter none of the buyers had purchased that exact assortment.

He rubbed his eyes as he took another sip of his beer. Danny would be all over his ass if he knew it was today's total caloric intake. Even though his partner wasn't here it was like some pompadoured version of Jiminy Cricket was whispering in his ear to tell him he needed to eat or sleep; two things he wasn't much interested in at the moment.

The first five hours staring at the cheap laptop's screen were a bust. He'd never before noticed how many different kinds of people bought Cheetos. It wasn't just kids and small statured detectives who were addicted to the fluorescent orange cheese curls. Along with the vials of prescriptions set on the counter were bags of cotton balls and candy, hairbrushes, toothpaste, greeting cards and even a toaster. It was amazing what was considered when stocking a so-called 'drug store' these days. Jason was featured in much of the footage and appeared to be hard-working and efficient. Mr. Lloyd should be happy with his employee. Now that he thought about it, he should have given the kid another couple bucks for his trouble.

He was almost about to nod off when he finally saw him. Jerking upright, he tapped the key for rewind and watched again. There he was. Catherine's killer.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Whump is coming chapter after next – honest. See you on Sunday. Please let me know what you think of this one.**


	11. The Murder Winds

The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 11

**Here's the next. A tiny bit more action in this one. Thank you for continuing to read and review. Your comments are never taken for granted and if you have suggestions that can improve the story; you know I will try to work them in.**

**Note: A couple references to really old television shows in this one and I think Imaginary Beta let me get away with recycling a title used in a story written for another fandom. It's all her fault.**

**Disclaimer: No money being made from this. I just like to stay up late and drink enough coffee to give me heart palpitations while sweating self-imposed deadlines.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

The Murder Winds

He was all packed and ready to go. The trips to Hawaii were expensive but her life insurance money would pay for it all. He thought it a bit ironic her death would provide him the means to end the lives of those responsible.

He looked longingly at the photograph and placed a kiss on it as he hefted his suitcase and walked toward the door. It was pretty windy out. That big guy at the general store said the Santa Anas were due today and he was right.

The fire index would be pretty high. A couple years ago it had been a close call but he'd been careful to trim the brush around the cabin and it had passed them by.

By tomorrow though, it would be a tinderbox here. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to leave right now.

He stopped to consider it and was about to pick up the phone to make the changes when he heard the whine of an engine as it labored up the rise. Because of the configuration of hills in which his cabin was nestled, it was possible to hear someone coming from two miles away as their vehicle struggled over the rough road.

Setting his bag behind the door, he picked up his carbine and made sure the clip was full.

…..

The guy at the rental desk told him to be cautious on the highways as the Santa Anas were blowing. When he'd politely inquired as to what the hell a Santa Ana was, he was told it was also known as 'the murder winds' because of the effect of negative ions that seemed to unhinge half the population when it blew. The rental agent had also stressed it was a good idea to get the optional insurance they offered as he was going to be leaving the airport at an inopportune time of day. During the winds, road rage on the 405 was almost a sure bet during rush hour. Danny, reasoning that with his luck and his idiot partner's fucked up karma, the enhanced coverage was a good idea, purchased it.

The heated air swirling through the rental lot was dry as a week old malasada and his hair was threatening to surrender to the static electricity generated by the ominous flow.

Danny slammed his bag into the back seat of the rental car and climbed in to crank up the air conditioning. _When I catch up with him I'm gonna make that Neanderthal regret ever taking off again. When I'm done with him the idiot's not even gonna scratch his ass without getting written permission to do so._

The air was clear except for the band of dust that had swept across the landscape blurring the foothills at the base of the San Gabriels. He set the GPS to the address given him before he left Honolulu. It was the home of one Robert Ruiz; a former SEAL teammate of Steve's from years ago and recently retired from LAPD. Danny was actually surprised it hadn't been more difficult to get his contact to part with the information. Both of them were certainly well aware McGarrett could take care of himself but, right now, he may be too focused to care about his own safety, (not that he ever did seem to care all that much).

Given what had happened to set Steve on the path of vengeance, Danny doubted self-preservation was even a thought in his friend's way too scary mind.

The electronic voice of the GPS directed him to take the next off-ramp and he found himself on a four lane boulevard in a very busy part of East Los Angeles. Both sides of the street were lined with a strange mix of auto-body repair shops, small grocery stores, hamburger and taco stands and for whatever reason - bridal shops. The street pulsed with an energy punctuated by the bass vibration of rap and the tinny trumpets of mariachi music. He made a right onto Gage Avenue and in the middle of the block found the address he sought.

The house was an old bungalow style craftsman with stone fronted columns and shiplap siding. There were roses blooming behind the neatly constructed picket fence that surrounded the front yard. It was all very 'Leave it to Beaver' if the Beave had been born in nineteen-twenty-two.

He pushed open the gate and walked up the flagstone walk to the broad front porch. There didn't appear to be a bell so he knocked loudly on the substantial wooden door. Hearing footsteps approaching, he tried to neaten his hair that had finally given up its original style in favor of a more 'natural' windblown look. It was a disaster.

Instead of what he'd usually expect in a neighborhood like this where people usually peeked out through a minimal crack with the chain-lock still in place until they knew the visitor was friend or foe, the door opened widely.

There before him stood a very tall, very intimidating man with dark olive skin, close-cropped salt and pepper hair and the air of someone you really wouldn't dare mess with. The guy had to be a cop or a SEAL or maybe Godzilla.

"Hi." greeted Danny as he looked up at the dark eyes that seemed to bore right through him.

"Who are you?" asked the man in a deep, no-nonsense baritone.

"I'm Detective Danny Williams of Five-0. I'm looking for Steve."

….

It was a face he hadn't seen in several years. The last time he'd seen it was when it glared back at him from the other side of a table at the court martial proceedings.

Something at once ice and fire rippled through his body as he stared at the screen. Picking up the burner cell he'd purchased after his arrival, he dialed a number he hadn't had need of in a long time.

"Hi, this is Smooth Dog." he greeted the person who picked up the phone.

…

"So, you're Williams." stated Ruiz as he handed the detective a cold bottle of water.

"Yup, that's me." said Danny as he tilted the bottle to his lips and took a long cool swallow. The air had parched his throat and was actually making his skin itch; drying him out like a piece of jerky.

Ruiz plopped himself down in the chair opposite and regarded the compact detective who Steve had described as annoying and relentless and the best friend he'd ever had. They sat in silence for another long moment; sizing each other up and considering the questions they'd yet to pose one another. A lot was riding on the answers.

"How did you find out Steve was here?" asked Ruiz

"Someone as concerned about Steve as his ohana . . . umm his family . . . gave me your address and said you'd be a good bet if Steve came to L.A."

"Last I heard, Steve's only family was a sister here in California. What family are you referring to?"

"His family is Five-0. We all look out for one another. We've worked together and saved each other's asses over the years and now we're family. He's closer than my own brother and, given Steve's nature, he sometimes requires a bit more umm . . . 'looking out' for than the average guy." smiled Danny as he set the now empty bottle down on the table.

Ruiz silently took in the answer, nodding his head without comment. Danny wondered if the ex-SEAL was going to cooperate. Maybe the fact he'd also been a cop would work in his favor, you know, cop-to-cop talk.

"So how long ago did you work with Steve?" asked Danny, trying to ease into it.

"Lotta years ago. Opie was just a JG when we were first deployed together."

"Opie?" smiled Danny. I thought his name is Smooth Dog?"

"Yeah, well to his face anyway." chuckled Ruiz relaxing back into the wooden chair. "When he was assigned to my unit he was so green he almost had moss growing behind his ears. Total boy scout. The Smooth Dog moniker just didn't seem to fit a kid who practically slept at attention."

"I imagine you had a hand in toughening him up?" smiled Danny, "Good job by-the-way."

"Oh, he was tough enough. Never seen one tougher or more determined." said Ruiz

"Well that much hasn't changed."

"So." asked Ruiz once again pinning him with his nearly black eyes, "What's the plan if you catch up to him?"

"Not really sure." replied Danny honestly. "Mostly, I want to watch his back in case he gets into something over his head."

"Opie would have to be in hella-deep if it was over _his_ head." opined Ruiz as he stirred what seemed a half-cup of sugar into his coffee. Though the temp had to be in the high nineties the ex-SEAL was still drinking hot coffee.

Danny hesitated before looking pointedly at the man sitting before him to say, "I'm not entirely sure what Steve has planned when he catches up to whoever he's pursuing. I have a feeling it's something that could get him into trouble if anyone were to find out. Leader of Five-0 or not, there's still some things that can't be overlooked."

"Yeah," sighed Ruiz, confirming Danny's statement with a grim smile, "You're right. I also got the feeling there won't be any need for paperwork."

"I have to catch up to him before he does something stupid." said Danny, "I don't know how, but I've gotta get him back to the islands in one piece and without the need for a good defense attorney."

"So, how are we gonna accomplish this?" asked Ruiz, leaning forward.

…..

After driving for forty-five minutes through the foothills as dust devils blew across the road before them and scruffy little ground squirrels scampered out of the way, Danny Williams and Bobby Ruiz pulled up to the weathered general store at the base of the mountain and parked in the rock strewn area in front of it. They walked into a wooden building that smelled of machine oil and the coils of hemp rope for sale on pegs near the doorway.

"Hey Tex you here?!" yelled out Ruiz as they tramped across the dusty floor toward the back. It was nearly as hot inside as out.

"That you Bobby?" they heard; the voice booming from the open doorway at the back that probably lead to an office or storeroom.

As both men turned toward the source, out clumped the largest, darkest, man the detective had ever seen. He was the color of ebony and as big as a Sequoia.

The compact detective wondered if everyone he was going to meet here would be successively bigger with each new introduction. The big man smiled at Ruiz and said, "Hey Bobby. Who's your little friend?"

Now Danny was used to hearing that word and, in the past, had even 'corrected' those who dared use it but he detected no ill-will behind the description. Besides, he'd need climbing gear to be able to reach this guy's face if he was intending to punch him in the nose.

Ruiz looked over at him and said, "Don't take offense Danny; in Tex's eyes everyone is little. Hell, even Steve looks delicate next to this monster."

The huge man smiled affably and extended a gigantic paw in greeting as Ruiz introduced them, "Tex Trumble, meet Danny Williams, he's a friend of Opie's . . . err . . . Smooth Dog's."

….

It was a good thing he'd rented the 4-wheel drive. The rutted road was strewn with rocks and boulders and even crossed a stream that looked as though it had been a lot higher during yesterday's storm. Judging from the debris caught in the low branches of the cottonwoods lining its course, it had been quite a torrent. But right now the flow was barely more than a muddy trickle as he drove across it.

He glanced over at the SIG on the seat beside him. It was the same model as the one he owned. He didn't want to risk getting on a plane with it. No matter how well-constructed, it was best not to give anyone cause to check into the identity of Owen Shealey. He trusted he could get his hands on weapons easily enough when he arrived on the mainland. Besides, ballistics would be too easy to trace back to him if it ever became necessary. Having a network of friends from his days in the military would always come in handy. Most were guys who wouldn't ask that many questions.

He swore as the tire hit a particularly large rock hidden under the shallow water that still held enough silt to obscure the streambed. The unsecured gun slid off the seat to land on the floor. As he hit the brakes and bent to pick it up, a barrage of bullets shattered the windshield over his head.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Whump coming up in the next chapter. There will be blood.**

**Please review. You don't have to be nice if you don't want to. I'm tough, (just don't make me deal with spiders).**


	12. Breath of the Devil

The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 12

**Though everything else seemed to be working just fine, the site was having problems with writers posting updates. Had to use a work-around suggested by a writer named Nikki who posted it on another website. I sincerely thank her for the tip. Sorry this took so long.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Breath of the Devil

He felt something burn along the back of his neck as the windshield exploded inward. His scrabbling hand hadn't found the gun on the floorboard and if he took any longer to search for it he'd be dead. The thin metal of the Toyota offered no cover as multiple rounds punched through as though it was made of paper while others pinged off the engine block. He scrambled under the SUV into the muddy water. During a slight pause that possibly meant the shooter was reloading, he rolled out from beneath on the opposite side and made it across the creek into the trees as bullets cut through the foliage around him; clipping off small branches and kicking up clumps of pine needles.

_Shit_. He should have known better. His anger and haste had made him careless. Now he was at a disadvantage. It wouldn't happen again.

Peering through the branches; he couldn't see anyone. The road beyond the creek curved into the even more closely spaced trees that offered excellent cover uphill from where he sought shelter. He looked down at himself and was surprised to see the left side of his shirt was darkened not with water but with blood. He hadn't felt anything but knew it was only adrenaline that had blocked out any pain - at least for the moment.

Another bullet took a chunk of bark off the tree near his head. He had to move. The shooter had the high ground and better cover.

….

"So, Tex huh?" said Danny to the big man who grinned genially back at him. "What part of Texas are you from?"

"The northeastern part. It's called Detroit." smiled Tex

"Ah, of course, makes perfect sense." snorted Danny who then looked to Bobby for an explanation.

"It's not a tough leap." smiled Ruiz, "My friend, more formally known as one Terrence R. Trumble, is as big as the state of Texas; hence Tex."

"Didn't even have to change the monograms on my dainties." said Tex with a broad smile.

"Dainties withstanding, I guess that does make some sense." allowed Danny who added, "though it's not always easy to figure out the reasons for the names you guys in SEAL world give each other. Someone obviously unaware of my partner's human interaction skills, or lack thereof, named him Smooth Dog. I'm going to have to assume it's sort of an ironic tag because McGarrett is about as smooth as a sheet of sandpaper."

Both men he addressed exhibited knowing smiles as they nodded in agreement.

Danny was just hoping that in the scheme of things, no one would assign a corresponding state name to him. Some people already called him Jersey but SEALs had their own rough humor and being known as Rhode Island would just be wrong.

"So Tex, when did you last see McGarrett?" asked the blonde detective.

Smile now gone and a frown furrowing his dark brow, the large man looked toward Ruiz.

"It's okay Tex. We just wanna keep The Dog from doing something stupid. I'm pretty sure you already know he's gone after the guy who killed his girl and _we_", he said gesturing between himself and Danny, "are pretty sure he's not planning on any need for a court."

"Why would I want to stop him?" asked Tex. "Sounds like he's got it covered. Sounds like the guy he's after deserves whatever The Dog's gonna give him." All of the huge man's good humor had now evaporated like the moisture long gone from the surrounding air.

Ruiz, frowning back at his former teammate said, "Look, McGarrett is now the leader of the Governor of Hawaii's Special Task force. He can't just go off on his own vigilante style. I mean he can but not if he wants to remain a cop and keep his skinny ass out of prison."

Tex still looked skeptical. "If I tell you where he went, what are you gonna do when you catch up to him?"

There was that question again. The one Danny had no concrete answer for but he took a shot at it. "What I'd like to do is reason with him and get him to recognize that killing this guy isn't a good idea. That I, as a policeman for the State of Hawaii, cannot let him get away with murder."

As he loomed over both current and former cop, Tex said, "We're not in Hawaii now, little man." And though his voice was even and unruffled, just the size of him made that statement seem a threat.

Not the least intimidated, Danny said with feeling, "Whether we're in Hawaii or not, Steve is my friend and I can't let him do that. I have to make him see that the old 'eye for an eye' thing just isn't in his best interest no matter how he feels right now."

"You still haven't given me a good enough reason. If someone killed a friend of mine, let alone my woman, I'd blow the fucker away quicker than you could blink and the law be damned." responded Tex with calm but deadly conviction.

Ruiz spoke this time, "Tex, you know I don't give a shit about what you had to do but McGarrett isn't you. The Dog needs to keep it together better than that. He's not gonna be someone who opens up a store in the middle of nowhere because he's crossed the line," Ruiz gave Tex a meaningful look which Danny caught but didn't comment on, "and right now, he's about to go right over the edge if we don't help him."

"He looked alright to me Bobby." the big man continued to argue, "He looked like he always did, maybe tired and a little skinnier than he used to be but he was really focused on finding that guy."

"Danny here is his best friend and he and I can both tell you that McGarrett isn't all right. Do you really want him to go down that road we've seen others take? He's too good a guy for us to let that happen."

Tex continued to lock eyes with Ruiz for another moment before pursing his lips and blowing a breath out of his nose. He abruptly turned to Danny to say, "I gave him my SIG and a couple boxes of ammo. He's gone up Wildcat Canyon Road to the old Cheney cabin. He said it was Gary, Admiral Cheney's son who killed his friend."

Tex yelled to someone still in a back room to take over the store as they set about gathering things to take with them. The three hurried out to Ruiz's truck and after throwing their packs into the truck's bed crammed themselves into the cab of the ancient but pristinely maintained F150 as Bobby tucked himself behind the wheel. The engine roared to life and the former SEAL threw it into gear to lurch out of the rutted lot.

…..

It started with a spark. The backfire of the old Chevy sitting atop a patch of dry grass had provided just the right source for ignition. As the car rumbled down the hill and away from the small house, a few wisps of smoke rose into the dry air to be quickly swirled away.

As the old couple argued about which was the best route to town, (an argument they'd been having for at least the last twenty years of their married life), and their dog yapped loudly in the back seat, they didn't see the orange flicker in their wake.

….

He lost McGarrett. Like a ghost, the guy had disappeared into the trees on the other side of the creek. Cursing, he didn't have another clip for the M-16 on him; he'd have to go back to the cabin for more ammo. He hadn't planned on being discovered this soon – if ever.

Those idiots in Honolulu must have been caught and spilled some sort of information that led McGarrett to him. To say he was surprised to recognize his former comrade behind the wheel of the SUV coming up the road was an understatement but then, McGarrett was nothing if not smart and determined. At least he was alone.

He waded into the shallow water and pulled open the passenger door to peer inside. A gun that had been wedged between the seat and the door fell out to splash into the stream. When he bent to pick it up his face came even with the seat and he saw the drops of blood that had soaked into the dark colored fabric. McGarrett had been hit - though how bad he didn't yet know. He smiled. Drawing blood from the guy responsible for Annie's death was more satisfying than he'd thought it would be. Maybe he should have gone that route to begin with but McGarrett was just too dangerous and causing him a different kind of pain was much more effective - because it would be unending. Too well he knew the loss of someone you loved was a thousand times worse than mere physical hurt.

Carefully striding back to the debris littered bank, his pale eyes searched the forest one last time before he turned uphill. The cover further down the mountainside was much sparser. He was confident he could find him quickly enough, especially if he was wounded. The pursuit would add a bit of sport to his revenge. He had the advantage now and when he tracked the bastard down and put a bullet between his eyes it would have to be enough. Then he'd disappear again.

First, he'd need to get some water and more ammo from the cabin. The wind had picked up and was gusting through the canyons and over the ridges like a blowtorch. The meager bit of rain they'd experienced over the last few days hadn't even put a dent in the dryness of the landscape. He could almost hear the vegetation drying and crackling as it browned and curled. The official fire danger index was extremely high. Red Flag warnings were posted this morning for the area.

He made his way back to the cabin as the sweat on his face and neck dried almost immediately and the wind in the tops of the trees towering above him whispered of death.

….

The air, even at this altitude wasn't noticeably cooler. The three men crammed into the cab together, two of them extra-large, with a smaller man between, were sweating through their shirts, the backs of which were stuck uncomfortably to the upholstery

Its transmission whining in protest, the old Ford labored up the dirt road that wound around the mountain toward others behind it. For whatever insane reason Danny couldn't understand, the truck had no air-conditioning. When he complained about it, the answer from Ruiz was: "Sure it does. It's called 2-60 air. You know, 2 windows rolled down at 60 miles per hour; works just fine. We're just going a little too slow right now for it to be effective."

Danny only rolled his eyes in response. It seemed typical of anyone Steve would know. They all probably even enjoyed sweating through their clothes before noon.

They'd been driving for over twenty minutes when Tex suddenly asked, "You smell that?" He pointed his nose out the window like a very large dog and took a deep exploring breath.

"Yeah, that's not good." replied Ruiz as his eyes searched their surroundings.

"Is that what I think it is?" asked Danny who'd noticed the air beginning to become more pungent and not with just with the smell of sweat in the cramped space they shared.

"Yeah, there's a fire somewhere. It's not a minor matter at this time of year or pretty much any time up here. The brush in these canyons hasn't burned for a few years and with the right conditions, like the drought and the winds, it will all go up like a Roman candle." answered Tex

Ruiz added, "They don't call them Satan's breath or 'vientos de satanas' for no reason. This is definitely not a good omen."

As they swept around the next bend, they spotted the column of dark smoke rising neatly into the dry air before it was driven to spread across the sky in a hazy layer.

….

He saw a flash of something higher up the mountainside. It looked like Cheney was retreating uphill; probably back to the cabin Tex had told him of for more ammo. The bastard was overconfident; figuring his target would be going in the opposite direction rather than toward him. Tex had drawn a rough map of where it was located but that was still in the SUV with his own pack of supplies. He should have brought a rifle but it was never his plan to kill the guy from a distance. If he could get as close as he wanted, he wouldn't even need a gun.

His side was pulsing with pain but he wasn't going to let it slow him down. He'd have to deal with it later. Looking down at himself, he could see that blood had begun to soak into the top of his Levi's at his beltline. The wound itself was higher up on the left side. He didn't have time to explore his injury but it appeared the bleeding was slowed. It probably just looked worse than it was. At least he hoped so.

With a shift in wind he could smell smoke and the air took on a biting quality. He hoped the fire wasn't near. With all this dry underbrush it would be a serious matter and there was only the one road out of here. Getting Cheney was his priority right now. He couldn't let anything get in his way.

Gritting his teeth and setting the pain aside, he picked up his pace to follow Cheney back to the cabin.

…..

"We need to walk from here." said Tex and Ruiz quickly pulled the truck to the side of the road and shut off the engine.

When Danny looked at Tex questioningly the big man said, "It's still about two miles up but any closer and Cheney may hear us coming."

"I assume Steve went in on foot from farther up?" asked the man who'd been raised where the ground beneath his feet was usually covered by concrete rather than dead pine needles. He was beginning to think he hated California even more than Hawaii. Avocados still tasted like wax to him and throwing guacamole on top of every friggin' thing was disgusting. Still, it still wasn't as bad as covering his food with pineapple - but it was a close second.

"If the wind is right, you can hear a car coming up the road from a couple miles away. I hope he parked somewhere near. I told him he had to go in on foot from at least the other side of where the stream runs across the road about a half-mile up but with this wind, the sound may carry even farther.

Both Danny and Tex nodded silently as they jumped out of the truck, Danny was glad he'd had the foresight to bring the hiking boots Grace made him get. Sure that she could talk her Danno into the next Aloha Girls camping trip if his feet were more comfortable, she'd insisted he buy them. Even his eleven-year-old daughter knew that hiking in sneakers wasn't a good idea.

They each took a backpack with water, extra ammo, food and first aid supplies. _Hell, they're SEALs,_ thought the Hawaii based cop as he shrugged into the shoulder straps,_ there's probably an RPG in one of these packs as well._

The trio double-timed up the steep road as smoke blew across it. The wind had gotten even stronger but they ignored its whispered warning.

…..

Cheney had just pulled open the cupboard that held the extra boxes of ammunition. He'd already put water into his pack and was almost ready to go track down McGarrett when he froze at the words spoken in a menacing growl. "Move and you're dead."

Cheney immediately let go of the backpack he'd been loading to let it fall over. He stayed kneeling on the floor, hands now raised and unable to get his mouth to work. This shouldn't have happened! McGarrett was supposed to be running in the opposite direction!

Standing motionless and looking down the barrel of the carbine that had been set by the door was McGarrett; eyes icy and focused like a laser.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Not as much whump in this chapter as you'd probably hoped for but that will be remedied in the next update or two. Reviews would be welcome. I'm still that cheap date.**


	13. No Special Hurry

The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 13

**Thank you to all those who are still reading. Thanks also to husband for his assistance with research for this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Husband complains he is doing research for free. Had to inform him that we who write this stuff do not get paid. He says as payment for his services he will settle for me learning how to cook. Did I just get dissed?**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

_The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry._

_Ernest Hemingway__, __A Farewell to Arms, 1929_

No Special Hurry

The wind blowing through the open doorway carried with it the strong smell of smoke and the figure backlit by the now murky light looked to be the Devil himself come from his fiery domain to claim his soul.

Gary Cheney was scared shitless. Voice tight and not as unwavering as intended, he nevertheless managed to spit out the greeting that contained a reminder of times past. "Can't say it's good to see you again, midshipman McGarrett but, oh excuse me, I guess your rank has changed hasn't it? Reward for your treachery?"

McGarrett didn't reply. He stood mutely pointing the carbine at a heart that beat nearly loud enough to hear without a stethoscope.

Trembling but defiant as he kneeled on the floor, Cheney looked up at the man who stood rock steady; finger poised on trigger. They stayed that way, frozen in place for a long minute before Cheney stammered, "What . . . what are you going to do?" He asked the question though he knew full-well his former shipmate's intent.

With what could be called a smile if its effect wasn't one that could have frozen a molten lava flow, McGarrett growled, "What do you think?"

"I . . . I umm . . . ", began Cheney trying to come up with something that wouldn't get him immediately shot. Thoughts raced through his mind in a search for something that could save him until he ultimately realized . . . nothing would. There was nothing he could say to mollify the man with the unflinching glare who, on the exterior, was calm and still as a boulder but, within, was probably vibrating from the need to end him.

Finally, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders to glare back at the man with the gun Cheney said, "You know why I did it . . . don't you?"

The muzzle of the M-16 pointed unwaveringly at his target, McGarrett responded, "I don't care why."

With the certainty he was about to meet his end, Cheney became strangely calmer and said, "You don't know how long I've waited. How long I've wanted to describe to you exactly what your testimony did to me and my family."

"You may as well save it Cheney. Nothing you say now is going to make one damned bit of difference." responded McGarrett, his gaze still fixed unwaveringly on his target.

"It doesn't matter what you do to me now. Nothing matters anymore." There was a short pause and Cheney's own smile; small and brittle appeared as he said, "But of course, you know that feeling now too, don't you Steve?"

The wind now moaned in the background like a chorus of the damned as bits of leafy litter skittered through the open doorway to gather around the tall man's feet. He didn't seem to notice. He never answered the question but his expression was what one adopted just before stepping on a roach.

"Fuck you McGarrett! I know you know the feeling!" screeched Cheney, his composure giving out when faced with his foe's unnerving silence; the panic once more taking hold. "I _know_ you feel the same way I did when Annie died! I _wanted_ you to know what it feels like! I wanted you to hurt the same say I did!"

The calm but chilling response was, "You can keep talking or not. Doesn't matter to me. I came here to put an end to you and nothing's going to change my mind."

"ANNIE DIED BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU DID!" exclaimed Cheney, cords in his neck standing out with the effort.

"Again, your reasons, whatever they are, don't matter. This only ends one way."

Cheney raged on, "She killed herself because I was in jail and she had no one else! I was in jail and she was alone! I was the only one who could keep her from giving up. Because of you I couldn't be here to save her!"

Face like stone, McGarrett coldly responded, "If your plan was to kill the one responsible for your winding up in jail, you should have eaten your own gun."

"FUCK YOU! I was only trying to make enough money to get us a proper place to live! Annie deserved her own house; not some fucking cabin in the middle of nowhere owned by a man who let us use it because he wanted his son out of the way!"

"I don't fucking care what your motive was Cheney. The drugs you sold killed four people. The only reason you're out of jail now is because your father had enough pull to get you out."

"My father?" snorted Cheney, "He was just another of your casualties McGarrett. Did you know he died right before I was released? I never got to actually speak with him again after I was booked. He never came to see me when I was in the brig. I'm sure he thought it was too humiliating for a retired vice-admiral to be visiting his ne're-do-well son in prison."

"I - Don't – Care." slowly and carefully enunciated McGarrett, "Your family drama isn't of my concern. What was of my concern was to stop you from peddling lethal drugs to fellow shipmates."

"How was I to know the stuff was that strong? I don't use that crap. How was I to know those idiots would take too much of it?!" squeaked Cheney

"You could have stopped selling it after that first one but you didn't so someone had to stop you. And because one of the guys who died was my friend, _I_ had to stop you."

"Fuck your friend! Carter was a drug addict! You could have let it be and just minded your own damned business but no! You just had to play the hero and investigate and then notify the master-at-arms! Annie died because of you!"

"I found out who sold the heroin that was killing people. I did exactly what I had to do and would do it again."

"Even if you knew it would kill an innocent woman?" asked Cheney, voice actually choking with emotion.

McGarrett flinched but hesitated only a second before growling, "As innocent as the one you killed?"

"You have only yourself to blame for that. If you'd just kept your fucking mouth shut she'd still be alive. They'd both still be alive!" declared the man still kneeling on the floor, emotions veering wildly between anger and pathos.

There was no answer at all this time and Cheney could see the finger on the trigger of the carbine begin to tighten and steeled himself for it. He knew he was a dead man.

…..

The three men moved silently as possible. Both Ruiz and Tex were surprised at how little noise the compact detective made as he moved through the undergrowth with them. They didn't know that Steve had shown him both by instruction and example how to do just that.

From his former teammate's description, Ruiz already knew the detective was fearless. The night of his arrival McGarrett had described his terrier of a partner as smart, relentless and, despite his constant bitching, fearless. So far, there hadn't even been much complaining from the compact man. Maybe it was something reserved for familia, (or what both McGarrett and Williams had called 'ohana'), Ruiz certainly hoped so.

After another half-mile or so they'd come upon the Toyota left abandoned in the middle of the stream and cautiously approached while looking around for sign the shooter may yet lurking in the thick cover uphill from their position. The SUV looked as though it had been used for target practice.

Danny held his breath as he peered inside it; hoping not to see the body of his friend. It was thankfully empty and more than one of them let out a breath of relief. Upon closer inspection, bloodstains were evident on the seat and they strengthened their resolve to find their brother-in-arms as quickly as possible. Tex was still muttering to himself about failing to warn Steve to pull over sooner as Ruiz gave him a pat on an oversized shoulder in consolation.

Casting for sign on both banks, it was clear there were two sets of tracks to follow up the mountainside. Smoke was now evident all around them. Its pungent haze was beginning to make eyes sting and lungs ache with each inhale and exhale.

Chronic drought had already put the agricultural industry in danger of ruin due to lack of water for irrigation; now parts of the so-called Golden State were in danger of literally going up in flames as well. This threat of incineration wasn't a new one. In the mountains and high deserts it was always the tradeoff for being surrounded by beauty.

They continued their careful trek up the mountainside. With both men separately headed in the same direction, it looked as though one was stalking the other. They all had a pretty good hunch who was hunter and who was hunted. They had to catch up to them and soon.

…

A towering, sap-laden pine with embers blown into its branches smoldered like a fuse for several seconds before catching and immediately being engulfed in flame. Like the textbook pattern of fire in a fuel rich environment, it had finally exploded like a bomb. The sharp report echoed across the narrow canyon and rattled the windows of the cabin. By instinct and trained response, both men hit the floor at the same time.

Before even registering the cause for the concussion, Cheney was on his feet and halfway to the door. The SEAL made a grab for him only to be kicked in the very spot that had taken the earlier hit. Gasping at the sharp pain and vaguely aware of an ominous snap and give at the site of impact, he curled into himself for protection against the heavy boot that had thudded into his ribs.

Cheney, seizing the opportunity, kicked at the carbine and managed to knock it loose from the SEAL's grasp to skitter away across the floor. Without bothering to even take the time to pick it up he was out the door like a shot. McGarrett staggered to his feet, arm clutched to his side as he dashed after him. He wouldn't need a gun anyway for what he was going to do.

Outside, the air was now swirling with smoke and embers. The fire was growing closer. Steve followed Cheney off the porch and across the meadow into the tree line. It would be only a matter of time before the long dry grass they trampled through would burn over in a fiery flash.

With the new spurt of adrenaline surging through his battered body the reawakened pain was set aside. Steve, confident of his ability or perhaps just wanting to prolong Cheney's terror, didn't seem to be all that hurried as he coursed after he prey in an easy stride while Cheney ran in a frantic scramble; stumbling over objects in his path, mouth open in search of oxygen as well as expressing unuttered terror.

…..

They ran for what seemed miles through the dense undergrowth. Danny swore loudly as a branch whipped across his face; its sharp sting making his eyes water but not making him hesitate. He wasn't going to lose his friend. If they didn't catch up to him soon, Danny was certain Steve would complete his mission. That would inevitably make necessary the decision whether to ignore what Steve had done or bring him in. The detective's chest constricted at the thought of having to make such a choice.

They had only a small amount of time before it was no longer safe to be here. Though the wind had shifted once again and smoke and embers were now blowing in their direction, the fire appeared to be a far enough distance away to give them time to make it back to the truck. Tex softly swore a blue streak as a still glowing cinder had alighted on the back of his neck where he slapped at it before Ruiz cautioned him to be quiet.

They were now approaching the wooden structure that had a small flower garden planted before it. On its porch sat a white-painted rocking chair. The front door stood open.

Nodding at one another in silent understanding, Ruiz took point and, barrel first, burst into the cabin followed closely by Tex and Danny.

They immediately saw it was empty; signs of a struggle evident in an overturned chair and the carbine lying on the floor in the corner.

"Shit!" exclaimed Ruiz, taking in the disarray.

"We're too late dammit!" cried Danny

Tex had knelt on the floor to inspect a dark stain that had soaked into the wooden flooring. It had been left behind in the spot where Steve, unbeknownst to them, had lain only minutes earlier. "We got blood over here." announced the big man.

"From what we saw in the car, it's most likely Steve's." muttered the detective running his hand through his sweaty hair. "Dammit! I just knew the idiot would get himself shot before this was over!"

"Well, he's still alive and we can't be that far behind." said Ruiz, "Let's get going."

On his way toward the door, Danny glanced over to spot the array of photos still on the table top. Stepping up to it for a closer look, he could see the photos were of Five-0's ohana with one that had been separated out from the others. Picking it up, a chill rolled through him right before it was replaced with the heat of anger. It was of his Gracie and had been taken in front of her school with a couple of her classmates beside her. A circle drawn with a red sharpie surrounded his daughter's innocent young face.

He held the photo up to show his two allies while announcing through clenched teeth, "That's my daughter! If Steve doesn't kill that bastard, I will."

The two nodded in understanding as he tucked the photo into his pocket, checked his gun, shouldered his pack and rushed out the door; two extra-large SEALs behind him.

…..

Smoke growing thicker by the minute, Cheney ran as though the devil was on his tail but it wasn't true. When Steve caught him, and he would, the punishments of Hell would be the least painful alternative. Gary Cheney was a dead man and he knew it.

…

The burst of adrenaline was wearing off and he could feel the burning ache in his side. His eyes and lungs were stinging from the smoke that now enveloped them and seemed to be growing ever thicker. He could hear forest creatures crashing through the undergrowth as they sought safety from the obviously growing fire.

After a few more yards, he stopped to catch his raspy breath and was doubled over in a fit of coughing as a dismaying coppery taste flooded his mouth. He spat it out and wasn't surprised to see blood streaked saliva. This wasn't good.

Stopping behind a thick pine, he lifted his shirt, as he finally took the time to inspect his wound. It was a deep furrow along a rib and was now bleeding again. He had no supplies to patch it up with but he'd have to do something if he wanted to stay on his feet long enough to catch Cheney. He'd come too far to fail. He had to keep going.

Shedding the cotton chambray over-shirt, he tore off its sleeves and folded them into thick pads which he pressed onto the wound, hissing in pain at the contact. The first one quickly soaked through and he applied the other over it. He then managed to pull his belt out of its loops and used the leather strap to secure his makeshift bandages in place. As he cinched it, almost crying out when he pulled it tight enough to help staunch the flow of blood, the pain made him nauseous and dizzy.

He couldn't stop now. As long as he drew breath, he wouldn't let Cath's murderer get away. Waiting a brief moment for his head to clear, he lurched away from the tree and staggered on.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Lots more whump to come.**

**Reviews would be most appreciated.**


	14. Impartially

The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 14

**Thank you all so much for the response to that last chapter. Sorry for the long delay. Apparently, relatively minor physical discomfort is another thing that makes me wander off. It's no wonder husband is threatening to tie reminder notes to my buttons. Who knew sliding off the side of a hill could be so painful? I hope that rock feels it as much as I do. At least I got to enjoy the drugs and wasn't expected to cook for a week. See, it all works out somehow.**

**Disclaimer: No money made. It's just a way of entertaining oneself with dreams of sandy beaches and beautiful people.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

_The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry._

_Ernest Hemingway__, __A Farewell to Arms, 1929_

Impartially

The flames of a brush fire could relatively slowly eat their way down into a canyon but race up to the next ridge faster than anyone could possibly imagine. When it gets to the top it could even make the jump onto the ridge beyond without even bothering to follow what one would think is a logical path.

Fire is smart. Fire is evil. Fire doesn't care who the hell you think you are.

….

Smoke had begun to burn their eyes and throats. He didn't know how far away the actual flames were but, in Danny's mind, this was not in his wildest nightmares the way he thought he would meet his end. Since he'd become Steve's partner, he figured it would be in a hail of bullets or a massive explosion or even rappelling down a mountainside but never would it happen in the middle of a friggin' forest fire.

Various forest creatures had intermittently been rushing past them for several minutes. He could hear them crash through the underbrush as they bounded by him but he could see only a quick glimpse of ears or tail.

He swore as an ember landed on the back of his neck; feeling like the sting of a wasp. Slapping at it he hoped its many companions wouldn't land in and catch the brush they were currently surrounded in. It was probably only a matter of time.

"How close is the fire?" he asked Ruiz who had stopped to grab the canteen that hung from his belt and as he unfastened its cap looked toward the mountains behind them.

"Not that close yet." he assured the detective. "The smoke is thickening for sure and it can get bad enough that you can't tell if it's night or day but we still have some time. The wind is pushing it north for now."

Tex had turned toward them, also unclipping his canteen from his belt and taking a large gulp then wiping his mouth with the back of one gigantic hand. "We should be okay if it doesn't jump the ridges between it and us." he said as though commenting on the latest baseball stats or celebrity gossip though what he'd just said meant they were very much in danger of being incinerated.

"That can happen?" asked Danny; more alarmed if that was even possible.

"Oh, yeah." confirmed Tex, "It can travel faster than man or beast can run and even skip over canyons when it explodes from one hilltop or ridge to another."

"Well, I just saw Bambi and Thumper hightailing it past me. Do you think they know something we don't?" worriedly asked the Jersey detective.

"Isn't necessarily a good sign." confirmed Ruiz much to Danny's dismay. "The critters are smart to get out of the area but so far we're still okay. If you look toward the west you can see a couple of the Forest Service's big Sikorski's. They're probably on their way to scoop from the Cogswell Reservoir."

"I don't think they'll drop any retardant this close to runoff slopes to the San Gabriel River but the water drops will slow it down at least." chimed in Tex "We gotta move it. Soon as we find The Dog we grab him and haul his ass outta here. That fire can change direction in a flash. The winds will determine which way it goes and during the Santa Anas that can be from moment to moment."

"You're obviously only saying that to cheer me up." muttered Danny as they resumed their search; now sweating heavily enough for it to run into his eyes before drying to a salty layer on his face. They moved quickly through the pines, following a trail left in the dirt and crumbled remains of dried vegetation as the wind blew in seemingly random directions around them.

"Hey!" suddenly exclaimed Bobby Ruiz as he bent down for a closer look. "We got blood here." he pointed to a dark splotch on the forest floor. The pine needles still glistened with it. There hadn't been time for it to dry in conditions that could nearly turn a piece of bread into toast.

They were really close to at least one of the people they were after.

…

Cheney wasn't that far ahead but it was getting harder to run. Becoming alarmingly tired even though he knew they hadn't traveled that far, it was hard to catch his breath and the smoke wasn't helping. Every inhale and exhale produced a burning ache he could no longer ignore. He knew he'd probably sustained a broken rib when Cheney kicked him, finishing what the bullet hadn't accomplished. Even through pain that made his head swim, he'd felt something give with an odd snapping sensation at the point of impact.

He stopped for a moment to lean against a tree as a fit of coughing doubled him over; breath whistling in and out of his lungs in a soggy sounding burble.

Without bothering to lift the hem of his shirt, he could see the makeshift bandage was soaked through and the bloodstain had spread downward to his thigh. Just the act of looking down made his vision wobble. Another bout of coughing assailed him and there was more of the coppery taste in his mouth. He spat it out and was alarmed to see the undiluted bright red color as he fought down the rising nausea that accompanied it.

His body was giving out but he had to catch Cheney before then. Any more pauses in his pursuit of the man who'd killed Catherine weren't an option. If he stopped again he may not be able to resume his hunt. McGarrett pushed away from the tree to stalk Cheney down the mountainside. He knew he was close. It shouldn't be long now.

…

The smoke and swirling ash were now so thick that seeing more than four feet in front of him was almost impossible. He couldn't understand how the man pursuing him was still on his feet. Judging by the blood and the way he held himself, the guy should be unconscious by now.

He was startled as a large buck bounded past him followed by two does. In their flight, they didn't even notice or care he was near. He could hear something else coming through the brush in his direction. Even though his muscles now burned with exhaustion it spurred him to run faster.

Up ahead was a clearing. Not wanting to take the time to go around it, he decided to break from the trees to just cross it as quickly as possible.

He'd only taken two steps into the long dry grass when a voice behind him said, "You can stop now and face me or keep running. Doesn't matter. The outcome will be the same."

…

They'd been tracking Steve and Cheney for a little over twenty-five minutes. Bursting out of the tree line into a small clearing they almost literally stumbled onto the two men they sought.

There before them nearly on the other side of it both men stood still as statues. Even without words it was easy to tell the pursuer from the pursued. Eyes locked on one another, one man's body language was the very picture of aggression as the other cowered backward.

Guns drawn; they left the cover of the trees. Ruiz called out a warning as they came up behind their friend and the man he faced, he didn't know if anyone was armed and didn't want to startle the SEAL into any sudden action. "Dog! Cavalry's here!"

When Cheney spotted them he began to screech, "Help! Help me! This guy's crazy! He's trying to kill me!" Steve, locked on target, didn't even bother to turn around when the three approached across the long yellowed grass. They could have been anyone, from hikers to rangers to friends of the man he intended to put an end to. He had no intention of letting Cheney run again. It was time to end it.

As Danny strode forward, even through the smoky haze, he could see his partner was in bad shape. Between streaks of grime his face was paper white. Blood had darkened his navy blue T-shirt from about halfway down his left side to his beltline and from there his Levis were soaked nearly to his knee in dark crimson.

Realizing that neither man held a gun, Danny re-holstered his while Ruiz and Tex kept theirs at the ready.

"Steve, you don't want to do this buddy." began Danny quietly, carefully approaching the frozen tableau. He didn't yet have to raise his voice. Though they were surrounded in smoke, the fire wasn't close enough for the roar and crackle of it to mask conversation.

There was no acknowledgement. Steve didn't even turn toward the man who'd come all the way from Hawaii to stand here beside him in the forest of the San Gabriels. A bit more forcefully this time the detective said, "Back off now Babe. We got it. Let him go." He slowly circled to Steve's right side as he spoke.

It was then he realized that his friend was loosely holding a knife point downward at his side; one of those big SEAL knives like the one Steve had at home. A faint hint of annoyance flashed through him. Tex hadn't said anything about giving Steve a knife to go with the SIG.

"Get out of here Danny and take the others with you." spoke Steve in a calm but raspy voice.

"Steve, buddy, let us take this asshole back for trial. He won't get away with anything." Danny almost couldn't, with any conviction, make the statement. He too wanted to exterminate the bastard; the one not only behind the murder of Catherine but had now planned on harming his Gracie.

It had been a struggle to overcome the feeling he wanted to put his hands around Cheney's neck to choke the life out of him. But during their trek he'd reached the conclusion that, ultimately, he was a sworn officer of the law; bound by its rules and regulations. He couldn't, no matter how much he wanted to, commit murder. Besides, his daughter needed him and he couldn't be there for her if he was in prison.

McGarrett still hadn't moved a muscle. Eyes the color of deep ocean pinning his prey, he stood motionless before them.

Still looking scared shitless, Cheney now also looked uncertain realizing salvation may or may not be at hand. He'd recognized Williams and wondered if the cop from Hawaii had seen the photos left on the table at the cabin.

"Steven, you don't want to do this." said Danny totally ignoring Cheney knowing Bobby and Tex had it covered.

The quiet but no less terrifying response was, "But I do. I want him to know I'm going to kill him and I'm going to do it slowly and painfully. I want him to know that he didn't get away with murdering Catherine; that he's going to pay."

Despite the heat, Danny felt an iciness sweep over him as Steve calmly regarded Cheney the way a hawk would regard its prey. He needed to keep Steve from following through on the statement but he had to do it without anyone being further injured. That was going to be tough.

"You're not going to let him kill me!" yelped Cheney, hands held defensively in front of him. He stumbled backward before finally winding up plastered against the trunk of a gigantic Ponderosa.

"You think I give a shit if he kills you or not?" snorted Danny, eyes finally moving from Steve to take in the cowering man. "You're not worth the dirt on his boots. He'd be doing the world a favor. But what I do care about is a good man winding up in jail for taking out the trash. It's the _only_ reason I'm asking him to back off. "

Whatever composure Cheney still retained completely deserted him. "Please! Please don't let him kill me!" he screeched, trying in vain to scramble farther away though his back was already plastered against the rough bark, "You can't do that!"

Steve began to slowly advance, the knife still held loosely as though forgotten, but anyone who knew him knew he didn't need one.

"Steve." warned Danny quietly.

Eyes still locked unblinkingly on his target, Steve paid him no mind.

"Steve, we have to take him in. Much as I'd like to, I can't let you kill him." tried Danny one more time. Resorting to force could only end badly for any number of them. The detective desperately wanted to avoid that.

"I said get outta here Danny." Steve growled as he continued to slowly advance, "All of you, get outta here!"

"No. We can't let you do this." answered Danny as the two with him remained silent.

"You want to be a witness? If you don't, you'd better go." said McGarrett, voice eerily calm, still not looking away from the visibly trembling Cheney.

"Can't do that buddy. I can't let you murder someone no matter how much I want to. Your buddies and I have come to bring you back. We'll make sure he gets what's coming to him."

"As you said, I'd be doing the world a favor . . . I'd be taking out the trash." sneered McGarrett gaze remaining focused and unwavering.

"Steve, you're not a killer." pled Danny

"You obviously don't know me very well." replied the Seal with a sardonic smile that showed bloodstained teeth.

Ruiz stepped forward now. "Don't do it Dog. If you kill him, he's won. You're smart enough to know that if you kill him you kill yourself. Tex and Danny and I can't let that happen. Think of it as a waste of the government's investment."

"Steven, this really isn't what Cath would want you to do. It won't end well." said the blonde; trying one last time, desperately wanting to avoid physically trying to stop him.

Steve slowly turned his head to glare first at Ruiz and then Tex before his eyes landed on Danny. "I told you. Cath isn't here anymore. It doesn't matter. What matters is this bastard gets what's coming to him." said the SEAL. He turned his head back toward Cheney but the movement didn't serve him well. At that moment, he swayed slightly and even in the dimness, Danny could see his bloodied partner pale further.

Tex weighed in now, "Dog, come back with us. We'll even strap this fucker to the hood of the truck if you want. Let the law deal with him."

"You know we won't let him get away with it Steve. If they don't fry this motherfucker he'll get to spend the rest of his life in a seven by eight cell." said Ruiz now taking a cautious step toward the swaying man.

Despite his friend's obvious frailty, Danny could see the resolve in the lean body become even more apparent. He knew Steve was bracing himself for a fight.

…..

"You think they'll be able to talk Steve out of whatever he's planning when they catch up to him?" asked Kono

"We both know that if Steve's locked on target there's not much anyone can do to change his trajectory." replied her cousin

They'd come in early to get started on their latest case. With two men down, the Hawaiian detectives would have to be even more diligent than usual. Getting this case solved quickly would keep Denning happy and less likely to come down all that hard on Steve when he returns . . . if he returns.

No one was under any illusions their leader would flinch at getting rid of the man responsible for Catherine Rollins' death. They both hoped Danny would find him in time or at least be there to help hide the body.

…..

The wind had shifted again. A new rush of smoke and embers enveloped them. Steve hadn't yet given up his stance before the man he intended to kill but the thickening atmosphere was too much for already compromised lungs and he couldn't hold back the spasm that overtook him. Danny rushed forward as the injured man coughed then doubled over with pain as he struggled to clear his lungs enough to breathe. The detective was horrified at the alarming amount of bright frothy blood that landed on the pine needle carpet beneath their feet.

Cheney realizing he'd probably not have another chance of escape took advantage of the distraction and sudden curtain of smoke that drifted over them. He launched himself away from the tree and around it into the forest behind him. Tex emptied a clip in his direction but couldn't see well enough through the smoke to tell if he'd actually hit anything.

"Steve!" exclaimed Danny in alarm holding onto his partner as he seemed in threat of collapsing.

"Danny, the wind's shifted! It's blowing straight at us! We gotta get outta here! NOW!" bellowed Bobby.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**How's that for a cliffie?**


	15. Those That Will Not Break

The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 15

**First off, thanks so much for your well wishes. (Husband may eventually catch on that I can hobble around well enough to cook but will try to delay that as long as possible). Thank you also for your comments on this story. As mentioned previously, you don't have to be nice if something about it bothers you. I welcome all comments. Please see note at end of chapter.**

**As usual, all mistakes are those of Imaginary Beta, she's been kinda whiney lately.**

**Disclaimer: If I got paid for this, (which I don't), I'd take my earnings and, (Bieber-like), be carried in a sedan chair on my next hike. Even if I can't have the originals, maybe hire guys who would, of course, have to have muscles to carry my big butt and maybe they'd have tats; maybe one of them could be blonde . . . hmm.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Those That Will Not Break

"No, no, no!" yelled Steve as he stumbled forward; almost collapsing onto the dry grass. "Che . . . Cheney's getting away!" he managed to cough out while attempting to break from Danny's grasp to follow the killer.

"Let him go Dog!" barked Ruiz, "The fire will take care of him and if it doesn't, we'll find him again. There's no way he gets outta this with paying! Now let's move!"

"Steve, come on! You're in no shape for a footrace right now. I have no idea how you even got this far! Let's get the hell outta here!" Danny said forcefully as he tugged on an arm disturbingly clammy despite the day's heat. Steve resisted and stood peering toward the stand of trees into which the murderer had disappeared. Finally, realizing he would only put his friends in danger if he tried to go after Cheney, he shook off Danny's grasp and took a wobbly step in the direction that would lead them back to the truck.

"Let me help you." Danny called out, worry in his voice. He could hear an ominous bubbling sound with Steve's every exhale and the skin visible between the streaks of dirt on the lean face was nearly colorless.

"I'm good. Let's move out." said Steve

"Idiot." muttered Danny, closely following his unsteady friend ready to grab him when he inevitably collapsed.

Jaw clenched against the pain McGarrett doggedly plodded behind Bobby Ruiz toward their hoped for safety.

…

They hurried on through the smoke. The sound of other creatures crashing through the undergrowth was all around them. The four men were now part of the great herd of forest dwellers fleeing the fiery monster. All around them rushed the winged and four footed inhabitants of the San Gabriels: rabbits, coyotes, owls, deer, and raccoons only some of those in panicked exodus.

The four men hadn't bothered to waste breath to speak. The surrounding smoke made eyes burn and throats feel as though they'd swallowed a bucket of sand. Steve, rather than being flushed with the exertion of their flight was ashen faced. He'd stubbornly shaken off the support of the shorter man and tightly clutched his side with his left hand while slapping away the foliage with his right. His gait was a near stagger but he kept moving. Ruiz had taken lead with Steve following and Danny right behind. Tex was on their six.

Keeping an eye on the man in front, Danny wondered how this was going to go if and when they got out of here. He doubted Cheney would survive his flight into the burning forest but if he did would they find him again? Would Steve continue his vengeful quest? What would it take to get him to stop? These thoughts ran through his mind as he brushed blowing bits of debris from his hair and they trudged along single-file.

Finally coming to the conclusion that, for now, those questions could wait and getting out of this mess was of course paramount, he vowed to never ever again set foot off of concrete - no matter what his annoying nature-boy partner or even Gracie and the Aloha Girls planned. Uh uh. Wasn't gonna happen.

Tex had gone ahead to scout the best route back to the road. Their change in direction took them out of familiar territory and there were no paths other than maybe a deer trail through the thick undergrowth.

Suddenly, Steve stumbled and sank to his knees. His breath now reduced to an agonized wheeze.

"Steve!" exclaimed Danny rushing forward to him to keep him from face planting into the carpet of dry pine needles.

Gasping for air, McGarrett coughed out, "Keep going Danny! Don't wait for me!"

"You know I'm not gonna do that! Come on!" yelled the blonde, tugging on his friend's arm trying to help him rise. Minutes ago the roar of the approaching fire, augmented by the sound of trees exploding in the flames, had filled their ears. When their volatile sap vaporized in the sudden heat, trunks would shatter at the sudden expansion sending flaming chunks and splinters outward as wooden shrapnel.

"Don't stop Danny! Keep walking dammit! I'm gonna be right behind you!" gasped out Steve as he rested on hands and knees; trying to gather strength to rise.

"I'll walk when you do." was the blonde's answer as he roughly took Steve's arm to attempt to drag him back to his feet. If that didn't work he would carry him.

Knowing he couldn't hold up the desperate parade or Danny would be doomed as well; Steve somehow managed to stagger upright to push on.

…..

"Cuz!" cried Kono, apprehension in her voice as she burst out the door of her office to enter the main room where Chin stood at the smart table, finishing the organization of files on their last case. Even without Steve and Danny they'd managed to solve it in record time and Denning would have nothing to complain about.

Eyebrows quirked as he looked up from his task, Chin asked, "What's up Kono?"

"There's a big forest fire just outside of L.A. I just saw the news report online. It's burning very close to the area Danny called us from right before he went up into the mountains.

"Oh, come on Kono. They could be miles away from the fire. What makes you think they're anywhere near it?"

"Well, he'd called from the road right after leaving Steve's friend's house in East L.A. He said they were going to go look up another guy who ran a general store at the base of the San Gabriel Mountains above a city called Arcadia and there may be no cell coverage once they left the store to go higher up into the mountains. I just tried to reach him and it rolls straight to voice mail. There's a map posted online of the area the fire encompasses. I looked it up. Arcadia's right below the fire area."

"That's still no reason to think they're in the middle of the forest." said Chin, beginning to feel the first tickle of worry. His cousin wasn't one to become unnecessarily alarmed. She was level-headed as they come and she always did her homework . . . but she had great intuition. Could it be possible that Danny had followed Steve into a danger zone? _Wouldn't be the first time_, mused the Hawaiian detective.

"Kono, see if you can stream a Los Angeles newscast onto the big screen."

…

They'd been trudging downhill for at least the last half hour. It had been determined that if they kept going in that direction, they'd reach a trail that leads down to a small reservoir. There may even be a Forest Service outpost there; one that would serve as a base camp for some of the firefighters deployed to battle the beast that pursued them.

The cabin they'd started from, not to mention Bobby's truck and Steve's bullet riddled rental, were probably cinders by now. The fire had changed direction several times throughout the long day and through the roar and crackle they could also hear the drone of the big Sikorsky choppers dropping water onto targeted areas.

In the olden days, they'd used borate in the drops but it had proven to be too toxic to the environment. There were newer formulas but the Forest Service tried to avoid using them because the runoff could eventually find its way to the area's reservoirs. Water is always a precious commodity in Southern California.

Through the smoke, they could see a large fixed-wing water bomber drop its load on a westward facing slope below them. It looked like the state was pulling out all the stops to get this under control.

"They probably deployed that plane from Oregon or maybe Montana." commented Tex to no one in particular, "Must be a helluva big fire."

Steve, concentrating on ignoring the pain didn't pause to comment. He knew there'd have to be an entire squadron of planes dropping water directly over them to even begin to tame the beast that followed them. Right now, they could only hope to slow it down.

Despite the dreadful heat and the exertion he was beginning to feel chilled. Not that it mattered. He'd have to stay on his feet. He couldn't let his friends down. He'd failed to protect Cath and now he'd endangered his best friend and brothers in arms. No one else could die because of him. No matter what, he couldn't stop.

Swearing as his foot caught on a tree root, he went down to one knee.

Danny couldn't believe the man walking ahead of him was still on his feet. Steve had stumbled several times and each time it looked more painful to get back up. He heard a muttered oath and saw Steve go down after tripping over something below his feet. He offered a hand to help him back up but the offer was declined. Steve regained his feet on his own and staggered on.

The wind continued to push its evil accomplice in their direction. The smoke and heat were relentless as the four men made their way down the mountainside.

Twenty minutes later, Steve fell for the last time.

…..

The cousins looked anxiously up at the screen on which a tense looking reporter was standing in an area seemingly surrounded by burning mountains. He was reciting the locations of emergency shelters for those ordered to evacuate or were already burned out of their homes.

This was a huge fire that had consumed thousands of acres and threatened thousands more. Most of the other states in the union had already dispatched firefighters to help with the effort to control it. Even Hawaii's own was represented.

Kono was actually searching the faces of those shown onscreen, most were people driven from their homes and clutching belongings and pets as smoke billowed in the background. She knew it was silly to think that she would spot either of her teammates in the throngs but she looked for them anyway.

For dramatic effect the camera panned up toward the blazing mountainside and when it did, there was a glimpse of a sign on the front of the general store whose parking lot was apparently commandeered as a staging area.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed the Hawaiian woman as she recognized the name emblazoned over the entrance. 'Trumble's General Store - If You Need It, Tex Has It'.

…

"Steve!" shouted Danny

Steve, on hands and knees, was struggling to rise to his feet. He almost made it but his legs refused to cooperate. Intending to use a fireman's carry, Danny bent to pick up his friend but was pushed aside by a very large dark-skinned man. With barely a pause in stride, Tex bent to scoop McGarrett up and throw him over his shoulder as though he weighed no more than a child.

Steve had briefly moaned in protest before becoming completely silent as he dangled over the big man's shoulder. The pain of being in that position must be nearly unbearable and Danny had no doubt his friend had passed out.

The Jersey detective followed worriedly behind; barely avoiding stepping on a large rattler that slithered as fast as it could go in the same direction they were headed.

As he followed the two downward, Steve was silent; no longer moaning intermittently. He didn't even seem to be breathing. For all he knew, Tex was carrying a lifeless body but there was no time to stop and check. The fire was gaining on them.

…

Twenty minutes later, the capricious wind again changed direction. The smoke thinned and lifted as it now blew from the west. Though they didn't know it, the fire had stalled in place and was busily consuming all it could before searching for more fuel. There were fire breaks being plowed or cut by hand as firefighters frantically worked to contain the perimeter.

Ruiz held up a hand to call a halt and Tex gingerly set down his burden. They would take advantage of the change to assess the injured man's condition.

As he was carefully laid down in a tiny clearing, McGarrett stirred with a moan and blinked up dazedly at his friends gathered over him. "Where'r we?" he gasped as he struggled to sit up. Danny gently pushed him back down. It wasn't hard to do so.

"Stay put you animal. We've gotta check you over before we go any farther." said Danny

"Mm 'kay. Les keep goin'" said Steve in a barely understandable garble as he began to flail uncoordinatedly in a vain struggle to get to his feet.

"Sure you are Dog" smiled Ruiz, "but we're gonna check you over before we hike outta here. Tex would be really pissed if he carried you all this way just to have you check out on us."

Ruiz had set his pack down and from it pulled a fairly large first aid kit.

Danny had been carrying Tex's pack as well as his own. After taking on the heavily loaded bag, he'd wondered if it would have been easier to carry Steve than both of the packs. But he was grateful as he set it down and the extra-large former SEAL pulled out four bottles of water and handed him one. Staying hydrated in this weather was essential and they'd finished draining their canteens several miles back.

"Didn' walk huh?" was the dazed and abbreviated question from Steve as Danny uncapped one of the bottles and held it to his friend's lips. Steve took only a couple of sips before turning his head away. Hands began to pull up the blood stiffened shirt to examine his wound.

Replied Danny "Nope, as hard-headed and unstoppable as you are, you didn't walk the last few miles. Tex threw you over his shoulder like a sack of laundry and carried you."

"You aren't that heavy Dog, but damn! You got a hipbone like a spear!" smiled Tex as he rubbed his own shoulder.

"Ss . . . sorry." said Steve, coughing again. He turned his head but a spray of red spotted Danny's already grimy shirt.

"Just be quiet, huh. We're gonna fix you up a bit now that we have a chance." said Danny as he looked upward at Ruiz who was unfastening the belt that cinched the makeshift bandages in place. He frowned at the soggy pads that hadn't been changed since Steve had obviously applied them himself.

"Now, I know you won't like it but I think it's time for some happy juice before we go any farther." said Ruiz leaning back on his heels as he held out his hand toward Tex. The big man reached into the first aid kit to pull out an ampule of what Danny assumed was morphine and handed it to Bobby. Danny knew Steve had a military issued kit at home that probably contained the same drugs. He'd assumed its possession wasn't entirely legal.

"No . . . no morph . . . morphine." groaned Steve

"What? You like feeling like shit?" said Ruiz as he removed the cap from the injector.

"Dreams . . . weird dreams." gasped Steve trying neither to groan nor cough again. "An' I doan wanna slow you down."

"Opie, you're riding the T train for now. You don't have to worry about your own speed. Tex has you covered . . . don't you Tex?" asked Ruiz as they looked upward at the man who hulked over them.

"Definitely got it covered Dog. You're still too scrawny to slow me down. When are you finally gonna finish filling out like a grown-up, huh?" smiled the big man as he watched Ruiz hold the device against McGarrett's thigh and push down to trigger the injection.

Steve started to chuckle but it only produced another round of coughing.

Face showing his anguish, Danny gently wiped blood away from his friend's mouth. Once again he heard the disturbing wet bubbling sound in his friends breathing. Steve was nearly panting either from pain or from not being able to pull in enough air.

"Stay still!" ordered Ruiz as he removed the belt from around Steve's ribs and quickly but carefully pulled away the wads of cloth. The wound was still bleeding. "Dammit Opie! You just had to go and get yourself tagged." grumbled Ruiz before turning to Tex to say, "Give me a bottle of water and some QuickClot. We gotta clean this up and pack it. The bullet's not in there. Looks like it hit a rib but didn't penetrate. The bone probably splintered and nicked a lung. That's where all that coughed up blood came from."

"Bastard kick't me there . . . hurts." mumbled Steve before grimacing and twisting as Danny held him in place. He hoped the drug would take effect soon.

"That sure as hell didn't help." said Ruiz, "The stuff kick-in yet?"

"Little bit." responded Steve gritting his teeth and trying not to cough. He knew what was coming. Though unconscious for part of it, the pain of being hung upside down over someone's shoulder to be bounced along for miles had been agonizing. It was now going to increase with the cleaning and repacking.

After organizing the things he'd need to tend to Steve, Ruiz asked one more time, "How you doin' Opie?" He'd given the morphine a couple more minutes but they couldn't wait longer than that. They had to get moving again. "Still hard to breathe?"

"Nah . . . nah so much. Prolly helped bein' a pass'ger." responded McGarrett as his eyes began to droop as he succumbed to the drug and Ruiz bent to quickly clean and pack the wound as best he could before placing another thick pad of gauze over it. Taping it in place, he then gestured to Danny and they pulled Steve to a sitting position as he groaned loudly. An Ace bandage was wrapped around his torso to secure the bandage and provide some support for the broken rib.

"There you go. Good as new." said Ruiz as he packed up the supplies and nodded to Tex who once again bent to scoop up the now totally unconscious man.

…..

_She was there; her long dark hair blowing about her face like the flames that surrounded her._

_"Cath! You have to get away! You have to run!" he screamed but she only looked serenely back at him with her beautiful chocolate eyes._

_"Cath please!" he pleaded, "You have to go! It's not safe here!"_

_She reached toward him. He closed his eyes as her cool touch glided over his skin. It calmed him like it always did. Her touch grounded him. With her he'd found his place in the world. The world he'd so restlessly traveled for so many years. His place was with her._

_He felt the soft fingertips stroke down his cheek as he listened to her voice, "It's going to get better Steve. I promise."_

_"Cath, please!" he beseeched as he opened his eyes and watched as her image began to shimmer and wane._

_"Shhh." she hushed, "It's okay now baby. You just have to stay strong and be the man you've always been. It's going to be okay."_

_"I need you." he pleaded, "Please don't go."_

_"You just rest now. Let your friends help you. You know I'll always love you as I know you love me." With that the flames were gone and she slowly vanished in the wind as the air became cool and fragrant. He could smell gardenias._

"Don't leave me! Cath please take me with you." Danny heard the mumbled plea as they walked through the ever thickening smoke; Steve draped over Tex's shoulder.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**NOTE: What do you think? Have written two endings for this because I couldn't decide. Should Cheney survive the fire and continue his evil ways by going back to Hawaii intending make good on his plans? **_** or**_** Should this end in California? The first option would, of course, make the story a bit longer but the second would tie it up neatly. Any preferences?**

**Even if you have no opinion on the matter, please feed the fire and leave a review.**


	16. It Kills the Very Brave

The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 16

**Okay, here's the next. The votes are in and have been tallied. Thanks so much for taking the time to let me know how you want this to go. All I can say is you guys are certainly a blood-thirsty bunch!**

**Imaginary Beta is a bit looped on pain meds right now. Don't let anything she's let escape disturb you.**

**Disclaimer: Make no money from this. Just a way of pretending my daydreams may amuse someone other than a gimp-legged possibly **_**former**_** hiker.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

_The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry._

_Ernest Hemingway__, __A Farewell to Arms, 1929_

It Kills the Very Brave

They'd reached a trail of some sort. It was a relief to not have to break their own trail down the mountainside. The wind was still blowing from the West which meant visibility was a bit better and the air wasn't quite so thick with smoke, embers and ash.

Steve was now deeply unconscious and hadn't made a sound for the last half hour even though the other three of them had been coughing almost continually as their eyes streamed from the poisonous atmosphere. It was a relief to take in a breath and not feel like one was inhaling a swarm of bees.

"Bobby!" called out the Jersey detective to the man who was still in the lead.

Ruiz turned while still walking backward to see what Danny wanted. "What's up Danny?"

"I think we need to check on Steve. He hasn't made a peep for quite a while now." yelled Danny against the still audible roar of the fire and the buzz of the water droppers.

"Okay, there's a campsite a little farther on, we should be there in just another few minutes. I remember hiking up here with my kids a few years ago. We must be on the Chileno Canyon trail."

"You think dragging your children into the wilderness is fun don't you?" yelled back Danny, not able to resist, "I thought it was something only insane people named McGarrett did but it must be a SEAL thing."

His teeth startlingly white against his smudged skin Ruiz only smiled without saying anything then turned back to the trail.

The ex-SEAL was correct, within ten minutes they'd come upon a dry camp with no conveniences other than three battered picnic tables and a couple of concrete fire pits. The irony wasn't lost on Danny with the thought that right now it seemed the entire friggin' state is a gigantic fire pit.

Clearing debris off a table, Ruiz gestured for Tex to set down his burden. Steve was thumped limply onto the battered surface; its weathered wood scarred by years of the carved initials and brief musings of countless visitors to this somewhat remote location.

Ruiz immediately began to examine the unconscious man. The elastic bandage wrapped around him was spotted with only minor amounts of blood but his breathing was ragged and he hadn't yet reacted to this newest action.

"Dammit." muttered the former SEAL as he picked up Steve's hand and pressed on the end of a finger then frowned.

Danny in rapid fire, his worry making him manic, exclaimed, "He looks awful! What's going on? What's happening? Is he okay?" He'd set Tex's bulky backpack on the ground next to them then moved forward to get a better look at the injured man. Steve's skin was nearly without color; his lips and the hollows of his eyes had taken on a bluish tinge.

"He's pretty shocky. We're gonna have to try to bring his pressure up. Gimme your pack Danny, we'll use it to elevate his feet."

As Ruiz raised Steve's legs Danny shrugged out of his pack and placed it on the table to slide under them. Tex, without being asked, immediately opened the other pack and began to take out the supplies they'd need.

Danny was amazed as he watched the smooth teamwork of the ex-SEALs as they quickly and efficiently went about tending to their comrade. Even after not living that life for probably quite a few years, they looked as though they'd never left it. Almost magically appeared alcohol wipes, a bag of saline, IV catheters and tubing. It made him wonder what other things were included in their emergency kits.

Ruiz was now tapping up and down Steve's arm, looking for a vein. "Shit" he muttered as he set it down and went to the other side of the table to examine the other arm.

"What's going on?" asked Danny worriedly as without thought he began to stroke his friend's forehead; pushing the dark hair off alarmingly clammy skin.

"His BP's so low his veins are hard to access." said Ruiz his own brow now creased with concern. After another few moments he finally exclaimed, "Got it!" and slid a needle under the pale skin on the inside of Steve's left forearm and, after checking the blood return, taped it in place. He finished establishing the line and handed Danny the bag of saline telling him to compress it.

"I'm not gonna change the bandaging. The QuickClot seems to be working so there's no need to mess with it until we get where we're going." said Ruiz, as he put the unused supplies back into the pack.

"At least _something's_ going right for Steve." breathed Danny as he continued to press on the bag of fluid.

"We've gotta push that fluid so that we can get out of here as quickly as possible." said Bobby as he nodded approvingly at the blonde's efforts.

"Bye the way, where are we going? asked Danny, "Not that it matters 'cause I'm just gonna go where you tell me. I haven't the slightest friggin' idea where we are right now."

"The reservoir isn't that far from here. As soon as a little more of that bag is gone, we've gotta get back on the trail. The wind's cooperating for the moment as far as _we_ are concerned but as you've already experienced, it can change its mind from minute to minute." The ex-SEAL had ascribed human characteristics to the wind and Danny had no cause to doubt him.

"Yeah, kind of like my daughter. Last week she wanted to marry that Bieber kid. This week, last I heard, she wants to be president. I don't know which would be a tougher job."

"You're lucky you only got the one girl." smiled Ruiz, "I had three boys. They're all grown now with careers and families of their own but when they were kids I just wanted them to stay out of jail."

Danny's responding chuckle was abruptly cut off when Steve groaned and began to stir.

"Hey buddy." said Danny as, with eyes still closed, Steve turned his head toward the voice that greeted him.

At first the only response was another soft groan but Ruiz joined in the welcome back committee by asking, "Hey Dog, you gonna grace us with your presence?"

"Steven, babe, talk to us. How do you feel?" asked the blonde

After a slight pause, the muttered answer was a succinct, "Like shit", then an added, "Stupid question."

"That's my boy." chuckled Danny as hazel-blue eyes blinked slowly open to focus on him.

"Wher'er we now?" he asked, as he took in their surroundings while trying to take a deeper breath which made him weakly cough followed by a soggy wheeze then another groan.

"We're almost to a reservoir where there may be a Forest Service camp. We may actually get you outta here sometime soon Dog." answered Tex

"'S'good" was the tired sounding answer as Steve began to restlessly shift on the table.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked Danny

"Gotta get up. Gotta pee." answered Steve

"'Fraid you're gonna have to do that from a prone position Rambo." said Danny

"Like hell." was the answer as Steve continued to struggle to sit up.

The argument ended with the stubborn SEAL, assisted by Danny, wobbling to a nearby tree to lean on it while his partner left him alone to take care of business.

Feeling surprisingly stronger after the re-hydration, Steve insisted he needed to walk for a bit and they set off on the trail once more. It wasn't too difficult at this point and they were on a relatively easy grade going down toward the reservoir. Danny rolled his eyes as Tex winked at him. The big man knew his former teammate's burst of energy wasn't going to last long. Steve managed to stay on his feet for another fifteen minutes before Bobby called a halt and nodded to Tex who once again scooped up the injured man.

There was only a feeble protest this time before Steve accepted the ride. He was unable to hold in a groan as Tex picked him up in a fireman's carry instead his previous 'sack of laundry' status. It wasn't time for another dose of morphine. Bobby knew they were even taking a chance giving him an opiate as it could further impair his breathing but besides alleviating what had to be incredible pain, it made the stubborn man a bit more compliant.

…..

The cousins, having taken care of whatever Denning had thrown at them for the moment, were now immersed in finding out who let Cheney know that Steve and Catherine were going to dinner together that fateful night.

They'd gone to Halawa where Kimo Archuleta was being held to see if they could shake him down for information. He was the only one they hadn't personally spoken to. HPD had apprehended him as he'd tried to get on a boat to another island.

The door clanged shut behind them in the visiting room as a burly local was led out another door across from it and instructed to sit at the bolted down metal chair on the other side of the stainless steel table. The guard fastened the man's wrist chains to the metal bar at one end of the table. Nodding to the two detectives he left them to question the prisoner.

The crude tats crawling up the sides of his neck testified he'd been in the system before as some of them had obviously been done prison style. Without proper tools and minimal concern for cleanliness; something sharp would have been drawn over skin, cutting the design into it, then ink was rubbed into the cuts. Despite his incarceration, Archuleta had the swagger of someone in much different circumstances.

His small cruel eyes slithered over Kono as he licked his lips. Stifling a shiver but unable to keep the expression of disgust off her smooth face, she stared unblinkingly back at him.

"So, what's Five-0 doing here? I already talked to the cops." he began, trying to control the interview.

"We're here to find out who you got your information from. How did you know that McGarrett and Rollins would be going to dinner together that night." supplied Chin, wanting to either laugh at the vain attempt to intimidate Kono or just choke the bastard.

"Why should I tell you anything?" said Archuleta leaning back and crossing brawny arms over a barrel chest. Chin could see the symbol of a local street gang etched onto his left forearm.

"You should tell us what you know if you don't want to be in prison for the rest of your life." said Kono, staring without expression at the hulking man.

"So, what's in it for me if I give you any information . . . not that I have any." added Archuleta

"Right now you're here on a conspiracy to commit murder charge. With what we have on you right now, it's a given that you're going to be convicted and will go away for at least 20 years minimum. We could get that changed from a class A felony to a class B if you cooperate." answered Chin

"Yeah, that means you could actually get out of here before you're an old man." said Kono with a thin smile, wanting to sound as though he'd have something to look forward to but being unable to stomach it.

He leered at her anyway.

….

They were nearly there. Even through the haze, Danny could see the light reflecting off the surface of the reservoir in the distance. The jarring stride of his mode of transport proving to cause more pain than he could bear, Steve had passed out again and was hanging limply over Tex's shoulders.

"Bobby!" called out the big man, "Gotta take a break for a minute." announced Tex, actually looking a bit tired.

"Yeah, okay." responded Ruiz as he stopped his progress down what had become a slightly steeper grade.

With Danny assisting, Tex set Steve down on the dusty footpath and straightened up again to stretch to his full height. The blonde detective could almost hear the vertebra in his broad back re-aligning.

Steve stirred and blinked his eyes open but made no attempt to move.

"You okay Steven?" asked Danny as he checked the bandage wrapped around his partner's torso. It didn't look any more stained than it had on that last stop at the campground.

Steve's eyes continued to dazedly wander over the landscape for another moment before he asked his standard question, "Where're we?"

"Almost there buddy. Your trusty steed is just taking a quick breather." answered Danny

"Coulda walked." mumbled Steve who'd made no move to rise this time.

"Yeah sure you could." smiled Tex

"Tex you should take point for now. I'll carry The Dog. I don't want to have you on the injured list too. We'd need a fucking crane to haul your ass outta here if you collapse in this heat." said Ruiz

Tex grinned good-naturedly back at the man who'd been in charge during their time in the service together. It was still almost second nature to follow Lt. Commander Bobby Ruiz's orders. "Yeah, I guess that would be a good idea." Looking down at Steve who lay quietly on the ground at his feet he said, "No offense Dog but you're so boney my shoulders are gonna be bruised for a week and even scrawny as you are, it's starting to feel like I'm hauling around an anvil."

"No offense taken." was the weak reply, "Thanks for the ride Tex." breathed out Steve, coughing as he tried to summon the strength for a smile.

"Hey!" said Ruiz in alarm, "The wind's shifted again! We gotta book it!"

He was about to bend to pick Steve up when something crashed out from the side of the trail and hit him to send him flying. The carbine Ruiz was about to hand to Tex to carry flew off into the brush as well. The collision barely slowing him down, a half-grown black bear lumbered off down the trail.

"Come on!" said Tex, he wasn't going to waste the time hunting for the gun. It would have to be left for the flames. The shift in wind was ominous. Embers now swirled in their direction, landing in the dry brush all about them. Ruiz had scrambled back to his feet and quickly bent to scoop up Steve. The extra burst of adrenaline had him lifting his former SEAL teammate with ease before starting off down the trail toward the reservoir.

They'd gone less than half a mile when a shot rang out and Ruiz went down with a cry of surprise, both he and Steve tumbling off the trail.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

Another cliffie huh?


	17. It Will Kill You Too

The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 17

**Here you go. Hope you like it. Very much appreciate the continued support you've shown by commenting on this story. Am relieved to know people still find it worthwhile.**

**Disclaimer: Neither snow nor sleet nor hordes of cats will stay this writer from her self-appointed rounds. Had to steal the post office oath once again but must also add; nor aching knees or lack of remuneration.**

_The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry._

_Ernest Hemingway__, __A Farewell to Arms, 1929_

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

It Will Kill You Too

It was fate that he'd run across them again.

He was glad he saw them before they'd spotted him. The huge black man he recognized from the general store was carrying McGarrett while the older guy was in the lead and Williams followed behind. They trudged along the downward sloping trail toward Cogswell Reservoir. McGarrett hung limply over the big guy's shoulder. Maybe he wouldn't even have to do anything but wait for him to die.

…..

Using the privilege of law enforcement to park wherever the hell it deemed necessary, Chin pulled the SUV up to the red-painted curb and the two detectives exited their vehicle to look up at the high-rise. It was one of those skinned in glass affording a view of pretty much everything one associated with Hawaii. The vista of sky, ocean, volcanic mountains and acres of other people's dwellings and workplaces had to be magnificent.

Maya Fredrickson's apartment was near the top floor in a building which, in the plethora of expensive places to live in Honolulu, was one of the pricier. They entered the air-conditioned expanse of the marbled lobby and walked across it to the bank of elevators. Kono pressed the button for the forty-first floor and the see-thru box rose smoothly upward; each floor they passed marked by the sound of a discrete ding.

Kimo Archuleta, their source and current resident of Halawa State Prison, had delivered her name in exchange for an offer of reduced charges. How the scumbag of questionable means managed to come into contact with one so obviously well-heeled was something that had yet to be explained.

Saying they'd have to figure the rest out for themselves Archuleta had only copped to being the one who'd tailed Catherine Rollins along the highway before making the call to his employer.

The elevator stopped its upward travel with a final tasteful chime to mark their destination. They exited onto carpeting that absorbed any sound their footsteps could have made. Kono could feel its plush depth under her feet and surmised it would dampen the sound of a herd of buffalo if it had taken the elevator up to this floor.

Finding 26C at the end of the hallway, they rang the bell and waited for its occupant to appear. There was no need to believe the woman would greet them with any violence. A thorough search had yielded no evidence of anyone other than a quiet twenty-four year old who'd inherited a more than substantial amount of money upon the death of her parents. Probably out of boredom, she worked part-time as a civilian clerk at Pearl.

After a few moments, the door was opened by a young woman no taller than five-one. "May I help you?" she greeted, obviously not knowing she was opening the door to those who would have a devastating impact upon her young life.

…

He'd been trailing them for about half an hour when the wind shifted to drive the men with even more speed toward the reservoir. The dull reflection of its surface was visible in the near distance. There was sure to be a Forest Service base camp there, if not on this side of the water then the other. They were almost there.

Suddenly, the little group halted and the black man set McGarrett down onto the path, looking as though he was taking a break as he'd put his hands on his lower back and seemed to be stretching. McGarrett lay limply on the ground, apparently responding to a question but not making any attempt to stand. There was a brief exchange between the older guy and the black man and they looked about to exchange duties when a bear burst out of the brush lining the trail and knocked the older guy ass over teakettle.

With another stroke of luck he witnessed the carbine go flying off into the brush and, from his higher vantage point, could see where it had landed. The wind chose that moment to shift once again and ember infested smoke nearly obliterated their view of the downward sloping trail. The older guy effortlessly plucked McGarrett off the ground and with a yell to spur them on made haste down the trail. They'd chosen to abandon the rifle as all rushed to keep ahead of the fire.

Cheney hurried toward where he'd seen the rifle land. He could feel the heat behind him as he bent to pick it up. An M-16; the carbine felt good in his hands as he followed them toward the reservoir. He'd have to make his move now before they got closer. The roar of the fire and the drone of water bombers masked the sound of his progress through the undergrowth.

He may not have another chance. Dropping to one knee, he took aim and pulled the trigger.

….

Rolling and tumbling; he could feel and hear the snap and crunch of twigs and branches as they were crushed by his body. He'd startled awake at the sound of a gunshot and then found himself plummeting down the slope of a gully next to the trail.

Suddenly, his decent was halted by something solid and only slightly yielding. He realized he'd crashed onto someone else who lay at the bottom of the arroyo.

Fighting off disorientation, Steve groaned as the sound of further gunfire blasted forth from above. He dazedly blinked at the figure of Bobby Ruiz who lay beside him, eyes closed and obviously unconscious. Reaching out to put a hand on his comrade's chest, he could feel the reassuring rise and fall of the respirations of a live human being.

Sporadic gunfire cracked across the smoky air of the canyon as he sought to wake his friend. "Bobby!" he croaked out in a voice he barely recognized, "Wake up man! We've got a situation here!"

Looking Ruiz over as best he could; he could see no obvious wound though easily visible through the bristle of the salt and pepper buzz cut was a big knot on the side of his head. There was a low moan then a hand reached upward to search toward the injury.

"Stay still for now." warned McGarrett, trying to move as carefully as possible, his own injuries once again were making themselves known. Gasping at the pain elicited by the movement, he turned onto his side to try to get a better look around them.

It sounded as though someone had Danny and Tex pinned down. He could hear the sound of a rifle, maybe an M-16 he surmised, followed by gunshots from Danny's SIG and whatever Tex was using.

Ruiz stirred and began to fully come-to, grunting as he grabbed the side of his head and began to sit up. Unknown to McGarrett he hadn't been hit but the bullet had knocked a rock out from under his foot causing him to lose his balance and topple into the gully.

"Stay down!" cautioned Steve, gritting his teeth against the pain in his ribs and trying hard to fight down the nausea it produced.

"What the hell now?!" groaned Ruiz opening his eyes to see McGarrett staring worriedly at him. Frowning at his friend he said, "Your partner is right, you _are_ dangerous to be around."

…..

Maya Frederickson was not a great beauty. Her myopic brown eyes peered down at the photo they'd handed her. "That's him." she confirmed as she observed the likeness of Gary Cheney, "That's my boyfriend Greg Carter."

Kono reached to take the picture from her hands and glanced at Chin who sat next to her at the glass topped table. The dining room of the luxury condo was compact but sumptuous. A large crystalline figure of a sleek dolphin breaking dramatically through waves flowing on either side of its body sat on the shiny surface. This side of the building faced the water and the view of the Pacific was breathtaking as a fresh breeze stirred the floor-to-ceiling silk panels hanging over the windows.

"Why are you asking me about Greg?" she asked worriedly, as she clutched at the heart shaped locket around her neck. "Is he okay?"

"Did Greg ask you for any favors about a month and a half ago in mid-April? Something you maybe thought odd at the time? Maybe gathering information on someone and reporting back to him?" asked Kono

Maya looked uncertainly at the detective sitting across from her. The young Hawaiian woman had a calm but focused demeanor as did her companion. She had no idea why Five-0 would have rung her doorbell and were now sitting in her dining room . . . and why they were asking questions about her boyfriend of three months. She again fingered the locket he'd given her, its cool metal warming under her fingertips.

"The only thing I can think of that was maybe a little strange was he asked if I could give him a call when I found out what the admiral's liaison officer's plans were for the evening. I asked him why he wanted to know and he said he was planning a surprise for a friend."

Kono glanced meaningfully at Chin before her cousin asked, "What is this liaison officer's name?"

"Lieutenant Catherine Rollins . . . the one who was killed in that traffic accident. She was so nice." said Maya sadly, looking toward the ocean which, right now, was almost a gunmetal grey color as it reflected the brooding sky.

Her attention drawn back to her questioners when Chin cleared his throat, she continued, "She always went out of her way to say hi to me and in only a couple of days we struck up a friendship. We'd joke around about our boyfriends. She'd always say the guy she was with wasn't really a boyfriend but something more - they just couldn't decide on what." smiled Maya sadly

Kono nodded silently, acknowledging her statement and the sad truth of her words.

Unprompted, Maya went on, "Greg had declared himself my boyfriend almost from the start and she said I was lucky to find someone not afraid of commitment." Maya looked a bit shy at the revelation but pleased with her news.

"When was the last time you saw Greg?" asked Chin, who was only partly successful in ignoring the pang he felt when the woman told them what Catherine had said about Steve. He cleared his throat again and asked, "Did Greg say why he wanted this information?"

"You still haven't told me if he's okay." said Maya, ignoring the question, a frown now replacing her shy smile.

"As far as we know he's fine." said Kono, "Now when was the last time you saw him?"

"A couple of weeks ago. He said he had to go take care of family business in California and he wouldn't be able to come back here until next month. He's texted me a few times but I haven't actually spoken to him since he left."

"Did you let him know that Catherine Rollins was on her way to meet her boyfriend the night she was killed?"

"Well, yeah. But you still haven't told me what this is about. Why are you asking me about Greg?" questioned Maya. After waiting a moment and getting no response from the two detectives who sat staring impassively back at her, the look on her face suddenly transformed from worried curiosity to one of dawning realization.

The woman was gullible but not entirely stupid.

…..

The rifle the shooter was using had to be the one that had been abandoned earlier. He could kick himself for not going after it but who knew Cheney, or who he assumed was Cheney, was anywhere around? He'd thought the guy would have been a greasy spot on the forest floor by now. Danny checked the clip in his SIG. It was nearly empty.

The shooter, a decent marksman, had been sparing in his shots; using the first one to take down Bobby and Steve and a few more to keep him and Tex pinned down. Every time one of them tried to break from cover to check on the fate of their friends, a round would hit close enough that one would feel the disturbance of air as it whizzed past their ears.

"Steve! Bobby!" he called out toward where he'd seen the two go over the edge. "Keep your heads down!"

The roar of the fire was louder now and the beast would be on them soon. A strong, furnace hot, gust swept toward the reservoir and obscured the trail in smoke and ash.

He coughed and choked on the ash filled air invading his lungs, trying to take in a large enough breath to call out to Tex. "Where is he?!" he yelled to the big man who'd taken cover behind a huge downed log a few feet to the left.

"Danny! I can't spot him!" yelled Tex over the roar, streaming eyes searching through the billowing blackness for the shooter.

"Can you see anything of Steve and Ruiz?" called back the detective

"No, the smoke is really thick below the trail. Can't see a damned thing."

"We gotta get to them! We have to get them outta here!" called back Danny, feeling as though he was about to cough up a lung as he pulled the neck of his T-shirt up to cover his nose and mouth.

Behind them the wind was roaring down the mountainside, moaning and growling its promise of death.

….

Something suddenly blocked the feeble light from above. Looking up, Steve saw a figure backlit against an eerie glow. Standing at the top of the embankment was Cheney, rifle in hand, grinning down at them.

Having heard Danny's choking shout to stay under cover, they hadn't yet attempted to climb back up to the trail. Bobby, having regained his senses, crouched next to him, both of them looking upward, neither moving a muscle.

"I didn't want to end it this quickly." said Cheney, a smirk on his soot streaked face. "I wanted you to live knowing you'd never see your woman again. Knowing she'd never be there next to you in that empty bed. That's when you missed her most wasn't it? I know that's what made me put a sleeping bag on the floor when Annie left." smiled Cheney, actually looking amused, "You know that feeling, don't you?"

Steve could feel every ounce of hatred in him wanting to burst forth to annihilate the man holding the rifle; to watch the life go out of that smirking face as hands closed around his neck. Ignoring the pain and the taste of blood, Steve growled loudly against the wind, "People have told me that I couldn't just kill you. That I couldn't just track you down and put a bullet in your head. They even said I'd have regretted it if I did."

Cheney, listened with head tilted as though amused by it all, holding the carbine pointed into the gully; confident he'd be ending the conversation with a bullet shattering the skull of the man responsible for ruining his life.

"But you know," continued Steve as unseen from above, his hand slowly moved behind Ruiz's back toward the knife on his friend's belt, "the only thing I'd have been sorry about was that I couldn't do it sooner or that maybe putting a bullet in you was too quick."

"Well, we'll never know now if you'd have had the guts to kill me in cold blood." smiled Cheney as his finger subtly began to tighten on the trigger. "I wanted you to suffer a bit more first for being the cause of my Annie's death. I had plans to take away everyone you cared about, one by one; to cause you as much pain as you caused me. Oh well, plans change and I'm flexible. As you said, a bullet might be too quick but unfortunately for you right now, it's the only way to do this."

The flash of the big knife was nearly simultaneous with the muzzle flash from the carbine. Steve felt as though someone had kicked him hard in the chest as Cheney screamed and clutched his belly, the knife buried to the hilt an inch above his belt.

Cheney toppled forward into the arroyo, his body coming to rest on top of Steve who'd been knocked backward with the impact of the bullet.

The howling wind suddenly drove a barrage of embers down onto them; a strange sound accompanying the fiery onslaught as though it was laughing at what had just happened. Ruiz quickly pulled Cheney's body off of his friend and without having time to check if Steve was still breathing, struggled to pull him up the side of the shallow gully to the trail above.

Calling out loudly as he could between coughs, "Tex! Danny! The shooter's dead! A little help here!" In only seconds, two sets of hands reached downward to help pull them up the last couple of feet to the top of the embankment. Tex again shouldered Steve and as fast as they could go, they stumbled down the trail toward the reservoir. Danny's heart was nearly beating out of his chest as he gagged and coughed on the smoky air. It felt as though he was breathing in chunks of it.

Stumbling blindly forward, they suddenly found themselves at the edge of the water and without hesitation, plunged in. All around them landed flaming bits of anything that would burn. Along with whatever other creatures had managed to make it to the water ahead of the flames they paddled toward the opposite shore. Through the smoke, they could barely make out the trucks and equipment of the firefighters camped there.

Danny and Tex had grabbed Steve under the arms to pull him unconscious through the water. Ruiz was doing a strong stroke beside them; he'd yet to determine if his former teammate was even breathing.

Even yards from shore they could feel the heat of the flames that danced along the edge of the reservoir as though in frustration its prey had escaped its fiery grasp.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**Told you we weren't yet done with the whump. Another cliffie for you. Please don't shoot me! I have husbands and cats to feed.**


	18. In The Broken Places

The Man Who Would Not Break

Chapter 18

**Some of the description of the fire is from very recent personal experience as I watched from the end of my street. Am still waiting to hear if evacuation is necessary. This would be the third such instance involving yours truly within the last few years - part of the cost of living in SoCal. Ninja cats and husband are packed and watching the newscasts. Husband looks a little nervous but cats are laid-back about the whole thing. I'm sure they think it's perfectly normal to have a litter box waiting for them on the back seat of the car.**

**Disclaimer: Make no money from this. If I did, that helicopter would be waiting in the yard to get us the hell outta here.**

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

_The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry._

_Ernest Hemingway__, __A Farewell to Arms, 1929_

In The Broken Places

The water felt icy against their overheated skin. Stroking frantically across the calm cool water of the reservoir; it seemed the entire world around them was on fire. It was probably nearing sundown but not yet night as the smoke had transformed daylight into darkness and the eerie glow of the fire reflected on the water's surface.

From the middle of the lake he could see fire on mountains on three sides of them. Swirling spires of flame rose hundreds of feet into the sky as the conflagration created its own wind pattern. The long, thin fire-devils licked upward at the smoky blackness as an eerie blood red moon rose from behind a mountain and billows of smoke glowed like Chinese lanterns. It was a vision of hell.

Steve was dead weight as Danny and Tex towed him along; making no sign he was even alive let alone conscious. Suddenly, there came a shout from the shore as some of the fire crew spotted them. Ruiz raised his arm and shouted out, "We have an injured man! We need help!"

Immediately, several people ran toward where a couple small boats were moored as more of the crew shed layers of clothing and plunged into the water to swim in their direction.

"I'm fine! Look after him!" yelled Danny as three people splashed up to him and he directed them to Steve. Two of them took over towing his, hopefully only unconscious, friend toward shore. A minute later a small motorized boat cut its engine and floated up to them as hands reached out to pull Steve into it.

"Got room for one more if you move fast!" said its driver and Tex grabbed Danny by the back of his shirt and practically threw him into the small vessel. The detective scrambled next to his partner who lay in the bottom of the boat completely inert, his blood diluting and mixing with the water to slosh around with the rocking of the boat.

….

EMTs were part of the crew that awaited them. This was a base camp and they'd been dispatched as a matter of course along with crews from several different municipalities. The names displayed on the sides of fire equipment were varied: Glendora, San Dimas, Alhambra, Montebello, even San Rafael were visible.

As soon as the boat was pulled onto its rocky shore, there appeared a stretcher and with Danny looking on, his friend was carried to where medical help awaited.

"He's been shot." declared Danny as an EMT quickly cut the front of Steve's soggy T-shirt and looked up startled at the statement. She didn't pause in her care as she cut through the Ace bandage as well. It looked as though there were two sites of bleeding, the newest on the upper left quadrant.

Steve was still unconscious and reacted not at all to the care he was receiving. The small blonde woman wearing a nametag that read examined the SEAL's arms and hands looking for a spot to establish a line. With a curse, she abandoned looking for a vein on his limbs and settled on a spot at the side of his neck. Inserting a needle while her partner took readings, she quickly established a line then connected a bag of Ringer's.

"We're gonna have to airlift him outta here." she said to the worried man who hovered near; eyes never leaving the deathly pale patient on whom she was working. Calling out to someone on the crew who stood nearby she said, "See if you can get a Life-Flight out for this guy! He won't make it if we try to transport via ground!"

Danny's heart froze. He knew it was bad. Steve looked already dead but to hear his status declared so loudly shook him even further. The two EMTs, the other an anorexic looking young man with a prominent overbite, hurriedly administered several more medications into the port on the I.V. catheter.

The portable E.K.G. showed a rabbit quick and disturbingly irregular heartbeat with respirations shallow and wet sounding. It wasn't good.

….

Even before they'd cleared the ground, the medics had asked him for Steve's blood type then called their destination to have several warmed units waiting for their arrival. Despite the dire situation, Danny was impressed by their efficiency.

With a change in the sound of its rotors, the chopper was about to land on the helipad located on the roof of Queen of the Valley Hospital. During the flight, whatever faint warmth still remaining in Steve's hand had slowly receded. The subtle hum of energy possessed by a living being had retreated; first from fingers then palm then wrist before creeping further up a clammy forearm. It was terrifying for Danny to feel that indefinable life-force abandon his friend's beleaguered body.

The female EMT looked up at the frowning detective and said, "He's really shocky but this hospital has had a lot of practice dealing with GSW's. He'll get the best care available. The ER is all ready for him." she assured him.

"This is a civilian hospital." said Danny a bit sharply as worry clawed at him, "How do these guys know so much about battlefield type injuries?"

"This is L.A., dude." said EMT Rachel Turner without any hint of irony as the chopper descended onto the hospital roof; a slight bump signaling the runners had touched down. Next came a blur of activity as the stretcher carrying Steve and several pieces of emergency equipment monitoring him or just plain keeping him breathing and alive was taken away to the Emergency Room before being quickly whisked further into the maw of the huge hospital toward an O.R.

Danny was left a distraught and soggy mess standing in the middle of the waiting room.

…..

Several hours later, Bobby Ruiz and Tex Trumble entered the crowded room; the night air that came in with them tinged with the smell of smoke.

"Hey, Danny." greeted Ruiz, "How's our boy?" was the question as he and Tex came to stand in front of the rumpled man who'd been slumped dejectedly in a chair against the back wall of the crowded waiting area.

"Not good last I heard." sighed the detective looking up at the two overly-large men who stood before him. Both of them were still wearing semi-soggy and very sooty clothing . He himself had to tug fabric away from sticky skin as he stood. At least his boots had stopped making that squelching sound as he walked.

"The Dog's a tough guy. If he made it this far, he's gonna be okay." said Tex as if trying to convince himself as well as the exhausted looking blonde man staring up at him.

The former SEALs looked toward one another. No words were needed. Danny sighed heavily and then plopped down once again onto the hard plastic chair; making it squeak in protest as it rebounded on the linoleum floor.

Looking up at the two he tiredly asked, "Where the hell were you guys? You don't look like you've been home yet."

"Took us fucking forever to find out where they took you two." said Ruiz, "Seems the closest hospitals were either under evac orders or were too overwhelmed to take any new patients. We finally tracked you here. It's at least thirty miles from where we were."

Danny was surprised to hear that. The ride in the chopper had seemed to be a matter of only five minutes as he concentrated solely on his struggling friend. He only knew Steve had looked bad enough that, if he survived, it would have to be through some sort of divine intervention.

…..

She was there smiling at him again. This time there were no flames around her; only sunshine, sparkling water and the cool clear air of home.

"Cath?" he asked

"Hey." she greeted as once again she reached toward him and he could feel her hand stroke gently down the side of his face. "You really need to try harder to get well." she admonished

He again relished her cool touch. Even if his core had been so chilled, his skin had remained overly heated. He couldn't understand how it could be so.

"Cath I'm so tired." he sighed, closing his eyes as her fingers glided over his cheek.

"I know sweetheart but you still have things to do. You can't give up." she gently scolded

"But I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go with you." he answered, opening his eyes to see her serene and impossibly beautiful face. Her skin seemed to glow and shimmer with a strange light.

"You know you can't do that Steve. Besides, I don't want you to go with me. Not yet. Not for a long time." she answered, her voice adamant.

"You don't want me to come with you?" he asked, hurt she could abandon him so callously.

"Steve, you know you need to stay with our friends. They need you. If you left them they'd be so devastated."

"They'll get over it." he said with an unsure smile, trying to convince her.

"What about Danny and Gracie? You know you were the only reason Danny could even stand to be on the island. You are his friend, he needs you."

"Danny's strong. He doesn't need me anymore. His home is Hawaii now. He won't admit it but I think he actually likes it"

"Maybe that's so but what about Kono and Chin? Don't you think they'll want to quit Five-0 if you're not there anymore?"

"They're good cops. I'm sure Duke will be happy to have them back." he answered blithely. Nothing and no one could be more important than once more being beside his Catherine.

"You know that's not where they belong Steve. They belong with Five-0 and you my strong, sweet, sometimes recklessly brave man." She smiled the smile that always made him want to return it but not this time.

"Cath, I can't do this without you. I don't want to be here without you."

"Oh, Steve . . . "

With that, she faded once again; her shimmering form lost in the bright rays of the sunlight sparkling off the water.

*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0* Hawaii 5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*5-0*

**I know this is short but let me know what you thought of it. More about Steve in the next update.**


End file.
